


Unseeing

by ninecupcakes



Series: Blind Art [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Dreamtale, Alternate Universe - Errortale, Alternate Universe - Inktale, Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Body Horror, Brotherly Bonding, Depression, I'll update tags as I go, Ink is intentionally OOC, Nightmares, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 190,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninecupcakes/pseuds/ninecupcakes
Summary: Sometimes, it takes sacrifices to reach happiness.Some other times, it takes much more than that, and it certainly becomes more than what people can handle.





	1. My Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Well, with school gone, I think it's about time I get started on the third and last part of this heart-wrenching series. =w=  
> I don't know how feelsy this one is gonna be yet, but I do know it's gonna be packed with action scenes. >:3
> 
> If you're new to this series, I suggest reading the other two stories otherwise you'll have no idea what's going on whatsoever. 
> 
> So, ready...? Go~!

Oh, there he was...

Again.

Dream sighed softly; Nightmare tended to just disappear from sight at random intervals, and finding him was only luck, especially since he was always relatively far from the Tree where he often spent time along with his mother, and it was difficult to keep track of him at all times. Despite it happening often, as his solution to anxiety was to get as far away from what caused it as possible, it was irremediably worrisome to a certain extent.

Neither Dream nor Nim could blame him for his elusive behavior, but his mother knew it was something they would have to correct sooner than later, especially since it was a problem that was slowly worsening. Nightmare barely trusted anyone, no matter how friendly they could seem; he didn't even trust himself at all. It seemed like he was constantly avoiding everyone, no matter if he knew them or not, and after a while, it began to look less like pressure or shyness and more like… fear and apprehension, even towards people he had never seen before in his chaotic life.

Not only that, but he had spoken very few words ever since he got there, and smiles brightening his pensive traits were rare; in fact, Dream couldn't really recall a moment in which he had put his grieving heart into a smile ever since his arrival no more than two weeks ago.

He was anything but fine. His own, scarred mind was holding him down.

The fact that he retained the most traumatic memories amongst thousands of people was not arguable.

In a world balanced to keep ill will away, hostile, murderous and destructive people, like Horrortale in its entirety, Killer or Error, amongst surprisingly many others, had ended up becoming unaware goofballs of relative innocence who could barely remember their past wrongdoings behind the curtains of insanity, thus having a more open chance for redemption and acceptance – Nightmare, however, didn't go that far back, and he was the only one who never did.

The massive, traumatic weight he carried had done far too much damage to allow such thing, leaving him as the same fearful, scarred being he had been for too long, and not anything like the responsible, caring Nightmare he had been supposed to remain as countless years ago. He was closer to himself, but still too far away, tormented with thoughts he'd do the impossible to get away from. He was far from accepting himself enough to think things through and go back in time, his mind keeping him stuck in the wrong past; that was mostly why Dream panicked whenever he lost sight of him for only five seconds.

Nightmare simply could not forget anything he had done, and not even a change in the village's demeanor towards him had fixed anything. They _were_ progressing, though, especially since they had finally convinced him to go near the Tree and even take punctual strolls through his long lost town alongside his brother, but they still had a long way to go if they wanted him entirely back...

Dream found him sitting by the ledge of the ravine, as usual. It had become a normal, harmless occurrence… but Dream hadn't been able to stop his hypothetical heart from skipping a beat the first time he had seen him there, and even when accustomed to it, he still felt uneasy when he found him there of all places, silent, pensive, motionless. Dream couldn't help it; he had not forgotten anything that led him there, either, and his brother reminded him of himself more than anything, of that hopeless side of him, that side of him he wished had never had to go through.

His vision on the world had changed drastically. He knew what depression was. He knew what to be in pain, what to be afraid of both his mind and everything around him, truly was. It was something he would never wish even upon the most horrid of people, let alone his own brother who had suffered for just about enough time.

It had become a habit for Nightmare to go there practically every day, especially not long before nightfall when everyone preferred to stay in the Underground rather than up there. In such a crowded space, it was the only place where he could mostly be alone and secluded from the fuss, as very few people ever bothered to hang around such an empty corner of the world, and could freely submerge in his thoughts...

…his scrambled, painful, terrifying thoughts. He couldn't get it out of his mind, any of it; no matter what he tried to shift his thoughts to, he would always end up remembering the cries, the screams, the pleas, the sound of explosions and broken bones, he would end up seeing _the destruction he'd caused, the damage, the deaths, the day he mercilessly killed his b–_

Soft, slow footsteps startled him, but a quick, nervous askance look over his shoulder calmed him down soon enough. Not _fully_ , though... As much as he inwardly treasured his brother's company, he really would rather be alone.

At least for the time being…

…forever would be a better option…

"You scared me," Dream caringly voiced, slowly approaching the almost identical, moping skeleton. He'd actually run off in sheer grief that time, not just walked away like always, and Dream had been too shaken to follow him straight away; he had run away as fast as his legs could take him when he realized Dream was having a vivid night terror – about none other than him. _That_ him.

As much as he didn’t want to sink into that sad reality, Dream having night terrors was something that happened often, almost every day as a matter of fact, and his mother had told him it was best to simply wait, as sometimes, forcefully snapping him out of his sleep could do more damage than anything.

He was sure the last thing Dream wanted to see once he woke up was the face of the one and only thing that caused his night terrors, anyway.

Even in death, his selfishness, his foolishness, were still tormenting his brother.

He knew the only one who should be suffering was him... it was his fault.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what his brother could have been seeing... after everything he'd done, nothing would surprise him. He had woken up screaming and almost crying, and he'd shuddered violently in his sleep when he merely touched him, trying to shake him out of it to no avail despite his mother’s warnings. It was an awful sight, but the thought of having gleefully laughed at things far, _far_ worse than that was even more dismaying. How long had he been having those night terrors scared him the most. He had been there for at least half a millennium…

He should be angry at him. He should be afraid of him. He didn't have to be there, calmly, talking to him… He should be running away from him, shunning him… treat him like the monster he was…

He shouldn't care… but he did, and he didn't understand why. He almost didn’t want to understand.

Nightmare tiredly rested his head on his arms, crossed over bent knees, as he mumbled a quiet yet heartfelt apology that Dream barely registered, and eyes of dim lavender tried not to meet the brighter, golden pupils of his sibling as he sat down beside him, trying to focus on the seemingly infinite space before him.

"You know it wasn't your fault… right? It… happens often. You– you get used to it… I'm sure it'll stop soon. Especially now that you're here."

Nightmare was nervous all of a sudden. _Distraught_. Dream couldn’t help but realize how tense Nightmare _always_ was when they were together, much more so than with anybody else; no matter the topic, he would always look down or aside, shift nervously if he was standing, lower his already meek tone or just stay silent until he was asked something, fidget... like he was afraid of him, _and_ afraid of himself.

Like he just couldn't bring himself to look at him in the eye.

Like he just couldn't constantly smile around his most beloved person, the one he had tormented, hurt, tortured and killed.

Nightmare never answered in any way, so for a moment, they sat in silence. It wasn't the first time they sat there without a word spoken by any of the two, and it definitely wouldn't be the last; despite that place giving off an eerie feeling, it was still peaceful, especially with the sun setting ever so slowly behind the unknown horizon. It reminded them of their actual home, of how things had been countless years ago.

And yet… it just wasn't entirely the same.

A calm breeze waved the grass, a grass Dream remembered had once been grey, then black, and always lifeless, a dead grass he'd found himself staring into almost every day, a grass that had once been burned out of existence by the explosions of deadly lasers and stained with his blood… but that was a past he had to put behind him.

Dream usually liked that type of silence; it made him feel peaceful and allowed him to remember he had freedom, but whenever he shared it with his brother... it always ended up becoming a little too quiet after a short while. It wasn't about Nightmare himself, and never had anything to do with him whatsoever – it was about the atmosphere. There almost always was… something wrong in it, somehow. A small part of him wished he could still feel the world around him, but without his soul, and any reason to get it back, he was bound to simply guess, like everyone else.

That was another one of those scars left in people who went through hell and back: his lack of a soul – except it didn't affect him as much as it had affected him back in life. It simply wasn't there anymore, like he had never had one, and he could be himself without any harm done. It made him feel rather impotent, but then again, that was how he had started off, and how he had always been meant to be. Life had started over.

He just wished he knew what his brother was truly thinking, or what exactly was bothering him so much when they were together. He had the faintest of ideas, but…

"...do you really think I belong here...?"

Dream had been about to say something else to break the eerie silence, even if only for a second, but his improvised words never met the light as Nightmare's quietly made their way out first.

The younger one slowly looked at him.

"I just... I'm not... This is wrong."

There was silence again, and Dream knew what _that_ type of silence was. He didn't like it when Nightmare thought like that, when he spoke like that the few times he actually did. He didn't like it _at all_. Sometimes, he would speak his mind out, it seemed… It happened often, especially when they were relatively alone... and it made him really anxious. Even without a soul, he could feel his despair, his apprehension, his sadness. It overflowed him with sorrow; mostly the distant, fearful tone of his voice.

Even after thousands and thousands of years, he still remembered back when Nightmare sounded as lively as he did, when both were equally playful.

…he feared he would never get _that_ past back.

It seemed like, every day that passed by, his brother would stray further and further away from his true self, continuously having a more pessimistic view of a world that was seemingly perfect… except for the fact that nobody in it existed.

Just yesterday, Nightmare had asked him if the people from their universe had truly changed, or if they behaved differently simply because they were afraid of him and, with his clear depression and the Tree back, didn't want the same disaster to strike again. In all honesty… Dream never knew how to respond to that. Though harshly, he had come to learn what the people they grew up with were truly like… but he didn't want to believe they would lie so blatantly after everything. And yet, he wasn't _sure_ … Sometimes, he thought their words sounded too forced and nervous. Desperate to be heard as friendly and cheerful, even. Another downside of not having a soul... but if they _were_ pretending, he knew he would rather not see their true thoughts and keep believing everything was fine.

He was not yet ready for any more tragedies.

After a short, analyzing look at his brother, Dream slowly shifted to face him. Something was wrenching whatever type of heart he had all of a sudden, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. His expression went stoic as he stared into his brother's gaze, Nightmare averting it when he realized he was being stared at. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he would not let him belittle and mentally hurt himself with those thoughts again.

Dream had vowed to never be fully content with his current life, no matter how many things he had gotten back, until Nightmare was happy as well. That was the one promise he would _never_ , under any circumstances, break. He had already broken his promise to always be there for him… but not the promise to always be his brother.

"You have the same right to be here as everyone else."

Quiet.

Nightmare took a quivering breath in, and didn't let go until a few seconds passed by, questioning whether to say something or not, _what_ to say for that matter. He went silent for a few more seconds, pondering, pupils meekly shifting through the grass like he was expecting a coherent answer to greet him through the waving blades.

He had to let it out.

He knew what his place was.

It wasn't there.

Dream clearly felt like he belonged there. Nim clearly felt like she belonged there. Ink clearly felt like he belonged there. Every single monster, human and existent creature clearly felt like they belonged there, correcting their mistakes, making friends, reuniting with their families… After all, nobody was born evil.

…and nobody had gone insane, gone through the wrong path, for trying to be someone they were not, for being foolish. They all had motives. _True_ , _understandable_ motives. He didn't. He didn't have any motives to treat something sacred, something he had vowed to protect, like a toy. He didn't have any motives to be a liar. He didn't have any motives to have been an awful older brother, especially when Dream looked up to him so much. He was a lost cause. He was selfish. He was stupid. _He was–_

"No... No, I don't."

He hadn't been able to stop his voice from treacherously quivering as a thousand, painful memories shot through his aching heart and mind. Dream was still looking at him with that motionless gaze, he knew, and he kept going before the other could say anything else.

"Don't you get it?"

He turned to face him, and it was difficult to maintain eye contact. All he could think of was how those same, preoccupied eyes had looked like before... how they screamed pain and fear instead of worry, how they were grey instead of golden. And because of _who_? He simply couldn't get it out of his mind, and it _hurt_.

He lowered his head, slightly looking away. "I don't _deserve_ to be here."

Nightmare huddled up again, submerging into his mind once more as distraught eyes looked at him in search for understanding. He couldn’t take that gaze. He couldn’t. He closed his eyes, hiding himself from the world, as he felt them watering, but he was only crying on the inside.

"...not after everything I've done."

"You didn't do anything."

Dream replied immediately; he didn't have to think his answer through. He was firm on his beliefs, and not even _proof_ would get him out of it. Nightmare tensed again, but replied nowhere near as quickly or as firmly as his brother, nor looked at him. He thought he'd lost his voice for a second, given how hard it was to utter a single word all of a sudden.

There it was again... that anxiety. He couldn't cope with it. He'd do _anything_ to make it stop... but what _could_ he do? What help did he _deserve_ , anyway? He was better off like that… everyone deserved to be happy after what they had gone through, but not him, and he acknowledged and accepted that fact even if it hurt. It would be unfair for him to be happy. All the people who were stressed, all the people who had mental problems, all the people who had lost their trust towards someone… he was the one and only cause for their suffering. They had a chance to be free, to live their lives like they had always wished to live them… but they couldn’t, and it was because of him.

"Then _who_ did..."

Dream shifted closer to him, nervousness increasing and sending an uncomfortable, foreboding tingling in his chest, chills as treacherous as polar cold. "I don't know. I don't know, Nightmare, I don't know why exactly _any of that_ happened, but it wasn't you, and I can get struck by lightning right now if I'm not being honest."

Timid purple eyes looked at him sideways before blinking and looking down again, narrowing in thoughtfulness and guilt, view blurring with unseen tears. Nightmare hadn't meant to word his mind in a way that would indirectly hurt his brother… and the fact that he did pierced through him like a backstabbing knife.

Always so selfish… always ruining everything.

Every day, Dream kept proving to him why exactly there was no way he could have ever been like him.

"How do you know it wasn't me…" Nightmare quietly asked, almost rhetorically and barely audible, gaze still planted on the horizon. The gentle, reassuring light of the sunset was beginning to disappear... Darkness made him feel extremely uneasy, ironically since he had always been a nocturnal wanderer. "How do you know it really wasn't some side of me nobody knew of? How do you know I wasn't... actually crazy or something...? How do you know I wasn’t evil to begin with…? Because... it truly feels like so..."

"Because you're my brother." Dream continued, wording everything slowly; honesty could be heard, seen, tasted in his speech. A type of honesty Nightmare knew he would never have... except for the most negative of things. It was the only thing he was meant to feel, right? The only thing he _could_... "I know better than anyone what you're _really_ like. I know better than anyone that you have always been a far better person than more than half the people here, and the most caring monster I have and will ever meet. You made me who I am. You always made me smile. Every day, _you_ made me remember I had something to live for. You, as you are, would never do something like _that_. You're _you_. You're my brother and my entire world."

" _That_..." Without moving his watering gaze off eyes that couldn't look at him, Dream pointed an accusing finger at something in the horizon, something that didn't exist, something that had no right to exist, " _That_ was something _else_."

There was silence again, deafening silence. The breeze, though not fully, had gradually weakened, not strong enough to wave the grass anymore. What little was left of it became colder.

"I don't care about that past, Nightmare. It doesn't matter. It's over. It'll never happen again. The only thing that matters is that _you_ 're here... and I'll never let anything happen to you for as long as I live."

That same silence was overridden by quiet, suppressed sobs. Nightmare hadn't been able to stop lavender tears from blooming in his eyes, inevitably quivering. He huddled even more so, muffled whimpers trying to hide the bawling he had to let out. Dream still hadn't taken his sight off him, and Nightmare sniveled as a soft arm was placed on his shoulder.

"You don't have an ounce of bad in you. You do deserve to be here, and I won't rest until you see that."

Dream was momentarily caught off-guard when Nightmare suddenly sprang and pulled him into a sorrowed embrace, unable to stop himself from crying his heart out, barely whispering, "I'm sorry... I'm s-so sorry..."

Overtaken by sorrow, by _guilt_ … Dream slowly returned the hug, resting his head on the other's shoulder with a sigh. "I'm the only one who's sorry..."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until night. Dream calmly let his brother free himself from his sorrow, let the tears fall and dry into nothingness until there was nothing to cry for, until fatigue took over instead. It was then when Dream noted just how tired Nightmare was, almost falling asleep in his arms. He was as well...

He had a brief, small glance at the horizon. The glow in the canyon seemed to mellow during nighttime; he could only realize that. He had always really liked that sight for some reason, more so than he liked sunsets or sunrises. The soft, white light combined with the peaceful, dark sky... He would always go stargazing there, and would even gladly fall asleep.

It reminded him that everything was fine... Everything _would_ be fine.

"Hey," he quietly said, soon catching his half-asleep brother's attention. It was also reassuring to see him calm, trusting, even if only for a moment... They were getting there.

"Wanna head home?"

'Home'... He hadn't seen that village as his home for countless years, more like his personal hell... but... sure, he could call it home. As long as Dream was with him.

Nightmare silently nodded.

Truthfully... he didn't know where he would be without his brother. His gaze watered again when he briefly and almost subconsciously glanced at the light of the canyon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One important thing about this afterlife thing I'd like to clear up before we move further into the story: people can still die. They can't die of illness or age (nobody can age or get sick at all), and can only be killed if they're attacked or have an accident. If they die here, they will be completely erased out of existence. Nobody will be able to remember them, like they never even existed. 
> 
> Why do I say this? Oh, nothing important~...  
> *evil laugh*


	2. Suffer, Relate, Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His stance, his expression, the way he spoke softly, lowly… it reminded him of no one but himself. Someone being called out for mistakes he didn’t know he had made? It almost felt like a mirror. Perhaps… there was someone that was more like him, someone that was suffering like everyone else but didn’t have a shoulder to fully lean on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry you had to wait this long for a filler chapter lol. 
> 
> we'll get to the angst soon...

"I don't have to do  _boo_."

And he stopped in his tracks, facing away, indignant, from a very displeased Dream, his arms crossed like an angry child who couldn't get his way. Dream would have normally laughed at Ink's childishness, and he  _had_  laughed the many other times they had gone through the exact same conversation, albeit in a less serious way, but he was already growing tired of the artist's attitude when it came to accepting certain someone.

It wasn’t that it bothered him; it was purely out of worry, more than anything. He tended to forget the amount of time Ink and Error had been in there –  _much_  longer than him, – and he almost preferred to forget, because that only made the mere thought of their whole not getting along shtick even worse. He was so insistent for the greater good; Error was neutral towards everything and all he needed was Ink to comply, but that was something seemingly out of his or anyone's reach, much to his frustration.

It was common knowledge that there was little to no hate amongst past enemies. Some were still distrustful of previous major troublemakers and tended to gossip or just mind their own business, ignoring their existence for their own sake, but no harm was ever done. Error was no exception to that change, or reversion, better said, and albeit avoided by some people, he never got into trouble, let alone caused it.

However, unlike others, his highly dysfunctional mind had given him more trouble remembering his past actions, and he was only aware of a blur of wrongness that came and went at certain times. Some people didn’t trust him as much as they would normally have because of that, but _that_ , though, was mostly what had brought him to subconsciously develop a completely new and inverse persona of what he used to be, an almost endearing demeanor. It had happened to other people as well, and it wasn’t deemed as anything new, but his change was somewhat more noticeable.    

That was one of the main reasons he already was in good terms with most of the people he had ever hurt, and a majority of them preferred not to remind him of his actions and offer him a chance instead of shunning him for having tried to kill them or their entire universes as a whole.

Ink, however, absolutely  _loathed_  him, and his opinion had remained unchanged for countless years.

It was a result of the mistrust and hatred piled up throughout their many years of existence, all combined into one single, hateful behavior toward the previous destroyer of worlds, one which the other skeleton didn't share and was inwardly hurt by, especially since Ink tended to be overly aggressive and straightforward when voicing his opinion about him even if he wasn't the one to initiate any type of conversation between them.

By then, Dream was fairly certain they were a lost cause even if he didn't want to believe so. Many people had restlessly tried to change Ink's way of thinking, especially Blueberry and even his brother who had actually become friends with Error as well and had been voluntarily used as an example proving that grudges did no good whatsoever, but he never paid any mind to them, choosing to be distant or even childish in order to tire them out of it.

Thus far, his ways had worked.

If those two had simply chosen to ignore each other, Dream would have let them be, albeit somewhat reluctantly, but it was the fact that Ink was constantly blaming Error for actions his real self would have never thought of and shunning him in an undeserved way that brought him to keep trying. His brother was already punishing himself for things he didn't do; he wasn't about to let someone else suffer like that, especially not when the definite solution was so close yet so infuriatingly far.

One of the things that bothered him the most was that Ink was completely alright with the presence of the Papyrus and Undyne that used to belong in Error’s universe, the only two that had almost gone through his same path, the two that looked exactly like him and behaved almost like him. There were barely any differences between them, and Dream had long ago started to think there wasn’t any real reason supporting Ink’s hatred towards Error other than the fact that he wasn’t willing to let go of a past he would be better off forgetting. He did try to bring those two into past arguments; all he got was Ink admitting _they_ were fine.

Dream huffed at the answer he had been expecting to receive but not willing to hear. "Why do you have to be so  _stubborn_ –"

"Why do  _you_  have to be so stubborn?"

"How am  _I_  stubborn…?!"

Ink whirled around to stare into the other skeleton with the same defiant, aggrieved look he was being stared at with, eyes flickering as if he had been deeply offended. "Because you're so bent on…  _this_." He flailed his arms around as he tried to find the appropriate words, indignantly turning around and walking off soon after with Dream following close behind, trying to get away from his pestering. "Seriously, it's annoying. I don’t tell you how to live your life."

They kept walking toward the Tree, arguing all the way through, varying between both immaturely and seriously. Some glances were sent on their way as they bypassed the many people minding their own business, ranging from confused to amused, some not knowing what was going on, some perfectly aware of the subject of the conversation. A few eyes were rolled at its repetitiveness as they walked by.

"Can't you leave it on a handshake?" Dream stressed, pacing behind and next to Ink who not once looked in his direction, trying to act aloof. Dream could tell he was ignoring him without being angry, and that made  _him_  angry. He rarely ever took it seriously, and he wished he would for just once.

"Haphephobia."

"That just proved you care."

"I don't care, I just don't want him to go crazy and suddenly snap because of that."

"What...? He's not– Look, at least a  _hello_?"

"Waste of voice."

"Oh for the love of– can't you just look at him like you're not going to murder him?"

"It comes naturally."

" _Ugh_."

Dream was seething by the time they got to the Tree – strange occurrence for someone like him, and Nightmare was the first to notice as they walked past, still bickering. He had been completely submerged in his thoughts and at the verge of falling asleep when two voices, letting themselves be a little too known, startled him out of the little comfort he had. Lost in their conversation, he could only watch with wide, confused eyes as they stopped a little further away, slightly tilting his head to the side. It was strange to see his brother so irate.

"You're making a big production out of  _nothing_." Dream continued, considering giving up at that point. It was clear he wasn’t really going anywhere with the conversation anymore, but Ink’s indifference sparked his urge to prove himself right.

"I'm reacting like anyone else should."

"You're reacting like  _nobody_  should. For the millionth time, everyone changed, Ink. Everyone is being given a chance. I instantly gave Nightmare a chance."

Dream had been so focused into the mostly one-sided conversation, trying to find every little detail that made him right, that he hadn't acknowledged anyone around him aside from Ink, as if only the both of them existed, otherwise he would have gone for a much different choice of words. Nightmare instantly looked away at his mere mention, even if he had no idea what they were talking about.

Ink looked at Dream with unimpressed, half-lidded eyes. "That one comparison doesn't work here. He's your  _brother_. We were complete strangers. We  _are_ complete strangers."

"You're overreacting. You couldn't have possibly hated each other since the very beginning?"

"First time we met he tried to blow my head off." Ink flashed a content smile, one that seemed too smug, victorious, and Dream let his shoulders droop in defeat as he ran out of any will to keep the argument alive. One more failed attempt, probably thousands to go. If even.

"…and speak of the devil."

Dream gazed at the direction Ink was facing, below the hill in which the Tree proudly stood; coincidentally, Error along with some people from Underswap and other universes he'd identify later were hanging out there, harmlessly talking as was usual. Ink didn't seem too willing to accept that no one was being hurt in any way even if the sight right in front of him completely told him otherwise. Dream actually smiled at Blueberry and Error getting along just like the former had always wished they would.

"…freak."

And that little smile was lost as Dream scowled at the other skeleton upon hearing him quietly growl. Ink's eyes were narrowed, pupils shaped like a pair of hateful red minus signs. The skeleton next to him crossed his arms, unable to do anything else at that point, "You're being unfair."

"How am I? It's what I  _think_. What I  _know_ , if you will."

Dream rolled his eyes and shifted around as Ink actually began rambling about his hatred toward the harmless skeleton down there, like his life depended on letting it out, and it was then when he actually acknowledged Nightmare's presence. He just shrugged at him, lost, and he shrugged back.

"I mean, you can't say I'm wrong. He's menacing. I lost count of the times he twitches and just _freezes_ while you're talking to him and stares at you with those… those damn empty eyes. The other two don’t do that."

"Ink."

"There's something seriously wrong and I  _know_. You can't expect me to accept something like  _that_. I'd rather be friends with someone from Underworld. At least they don’t just stop and stare and you and then pretend they didn’t do anything."

" _Ink_."

“I mean, _why_ is he the only one who does that stuff? Do you have any idea how many people have played with knives? None of them swing them around like it’s a party. How many people have used seriously dangerous weapons? They were never brought up again. Of _course_ he’s the only one still with those… _quirks_.”

“In-“

"And- and the  _funniest_  part is that he has  _no idea_  what he's even done, and it's just so  _exasperating_ –!… What are you looking at?"

Dream's expression had changed into a surprised frown as further words were suddenly cut short. That was the only time Ink actually paid attention to him after their five minutes of bickering; both siblings were looking at him with those expectant expressions, as a matter of fact, and Dream even took a small step back.

They weren't entirely looking at  _him_ , though. For a moment, he thought Error would've sneaked up on him. And if he did, that would be the one time he would get a paintbrush to the skull.

He slowly turned around with a scowl, having assimilated that he would encounter a black skull and a couple eyes of red and mismatched pupils, a golden smile grinning at him like they had always been the best of friends, an utterly clueless being, because his world could only be made out of coincidences.

That was why he jumped back with a startled squeak as he was met with a green figure towering over him instead, and two empty eyes, not red, that spoke a thousand words into the depths of his soul.

Nim wasn't content with his behavior, either.

"O- _oh_."

Ink stepped back in bewilderment, arms innocently behind him as he slowly backed away, putting on a fake, nervous smile. He had been expecting many things, especially to be met with the face of any of the people hanging out down there. He should have seen it coming, given that Nim rarely ever went anywhere else. "Um. Hey. Hi. Beautiful day we're having."

The guardian continued to stare him down. Behind him, Dream judgmentally frowned at his sudden façade, the same he had pulled countless times.

"Yeah, um, about that… Heh, you didn't happen to hear anything… did you…?"

_"I heard everything."_

His nervous smile vanished.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course.” A pause. “Well, I, uh, I was about to… y'know, look around… be friends with people…"

Ink sidestepped around the guardian, pretending nothing was happening yet being perfectly aware how much it incensed her to hear him complaining about Error's existence as a whole. Last time she heard him, she got his paintbrush snared in lianas sprouting from the Tree and left it hanging there for the entire day; he was most definitely not going to risk that again, and she _had_ warned him that next time he’d find his beloved tool in a thornbush. He just hoped she was in a relatively good mood and forgot about that.

"Well, I'm… gonna do that, yeah… Just… Yep."

Nim kept staring at him, eyes locked onto him, until he was well out of sight as he quickened his pace while bypassing her, and he was awkwardly gone. Even then she kept her narrowed gaze fixated on the spot Ink had been just a moment ago before turning her attention to the other two when she heard Dream plopping onto the ground, slumping against the Tree with a tired huff next to his still bewildered brother.

"I'm done." he deadpanned.

Nim sighed softly, slowly blinking, before joining them. Dream was the only one who was still actively trying to get Ink to at the very least ignore Error, but there simply was no way to get the stubbornness out of his head. She thanked his efforts, but even she thought it would be a better idea to just leave it alone for some time. There had been very few days in which Dream hadn't brought up that conversation at all.

_"You have to understand his point of view."_

"I'm trying. I'm trying but I can't. I know Error… hurt him a lot, that he hurt everyone else and nearly destroyed everything, that most people are here because of what happened, but… that's over. That wasn't even _him_ … He had gone insane when he did those things. Ink just can't let go of it… and I understand that to an extent, but it doesn’t really excuse his attitude. He… he wasn’t like this before…"

He sighed sadly, looking down in defeat. Each time he tried, he got less and less results, _worse_ results, be it Ink completely ignoring him like he should ignore Error or actually getting angry at him. He really was considering completely giving up on them, but he knew it could bring consequences; it was more of a mental issue, and knowing that Error didn’t exactly take Ink’s hatred toward him lightly and that the latter’s jokes could easily go too far, he feared losing a peace he definitely did _not_ want to disturb. He just didn't know what to do.

Nim kneeled beside him, a comforting arm around him holding him close. Nightmare could only watch, as he had little to no idea what was going on; preferring to be alone caused him to miss any of the few dilemmas that were still around, and in a way, he knew it would be a better choice to stop doing that, but his mind wasn’t allowing him to let go of that habit just yet.

_"People react very differently to certain things. You know how long it took for universes such as Horrortale to fully forget their differences, the pain they had brought upon one another, and even today they are still wary of each other. Trauma can damage people for a long time, sometimes forever in the worst of cases, and Ink has not yet gotten past it. I am certain it will change, someday... but for now, we can only watch over them and make sure none of the two do something they may regret."_

"That's what I'm mostly worried about." Dream exasperatedly said, preoccupied eyes glancing at the guardian. "I don't want Ink to take it too far one day. It could end badly... even if he doesn't _actually_ go too far. Error knows what he thinks of him, and it affects him, yet he still tries... Besides, a lot of people look up to Ink, and they _will_ believe him, especially if they have ever been attacked... I know some people already do. Who knows, some of them could change their opinion and go against Error, and- and Ink could accidentally get the entire multiverse to hate him because of a simple, wrong belief–"

He caught sight of his brother through the corner of his eye, caught sight of his huddled stance, of his distraught eyes, of his distress, and immediately stopped talking. A sharp pang of guilt numbed his chest, brought him to realize that he was talking about things he shouldn't just bring up in his presence. It was still strange for him to have such a blurred mind; to know that he had always kept his thoughts to himself in an attempt to make people happy, to stop them from worrying too much about him, and to realize that he was unable to do that anymore, spilling even negative thoughts whenever he spoke instead.

Indeed, trauma could damage people from a long time… _but he didn’t want to be damaged…_

His eyes shifted to the ground, ashamed.

Silence...

"…let's just... change the subject."

Nim eyed them both, one moment attentive, the next downhearted. It hurt her to see them like that. To know that not everything was entirely perfect in that world, and that Dream was slowly realizing. To see that truth slowly sink into them, trying to break the hopes they had. Compared to everything they had lived through, they were confronted with minor problems, but they were dangerous problems at the same time, and nobody was yet ready to face them.

Dream wasn't wrong. Ink constantly shunning Error could end badly, be it with the latter snapping or rejecting himself, be it with people changing their mind given how long Ink had been thinking the same way, and Nightmare's scarred mind wasn't far from becoming something to be truly worried about as well.

But they had to deal with one thing at a time. The last thing Nim wanted was Dream to be overwhelmed by problems that, come hell or high water, did have a solution, especially not while he was still dealing with his own problems.

_"Speaking of changing the subject... Dream, did you not want to go somewhere?"_

The thoughtful skeleton immediately perked up; it was then when he remembered why he was even walking toward the Tree with Ink in the first place. “O-oh! Right! The village!”

He stood up immediately, and it seemed unthinkable that he’d been moping over too many things at once just seconds ago given his sudden, genuine smile and ardor. Nim partly smiled at his enthusiasm, but deep down, she knew he was trying too hard to keep himself happy, trying too hard to ignore the bad things even if his altered mindsets didn’t let him have that freedom entirely. Even the slightest of problems bothered him to a greater extent, made him reflect too much on its solutions and consequences – something he had never done.

And he had kept that unnatural behavior for years. Nim had been certain it should have stopped by then, along with his night terrors…

Dream glanced at Nightmare; he seemed to have lightly softened and was certainly curious as to why he had completely thrown the whole Ink issue out of the way, but Dream still felt that uncomfortably guilty numbness in his chest whenever he looked at him. Lesson learned: never talk about any problem whatsoever if he was going to be near his brother soon after. “Are you coming?”

The eldest slightly curled further into himself, somewhat anxious at the vague question. “What for?”

“The town wanted to help by building more houses and expanding the village a little, since the Underground keeps getting crowded, and we decided to join them. A lot of people are going to help, actually.”

Nightmare gave his brother’s proposal a few seconds of consideration. There were times where he would allow himself to take a walk through the village without much deliberation, but he was no yet ready to _interact_ with them all day long. Even if he chose not to talk to anyone, he would still be surrounded by people that knew him well enough. Besides, he had never built anything in his life, or even watched people build anything closely enough; he would only ruin everything.

“Uh… right now…?”

“I mean… if you want to.”

Contradiction was one of the problems Nightmare had to face often. He _did_ want to be with his brother; they were actually rarely together, because he was either on his own little spot near the ravine, or he wanted to be alone, or he was sleeping, or Dream was simply doing something else, and he believed they should spend more time together… but there was one part of him that didn’t want to spend too much time with anyone, considering loneliness a better friend and companion than any living being, no matter how close to him, could be.

He didn’t know which part was right, or which part was wrong. He didn’t even know if his mind had a right or a wrong.

Nightmare shifted a little, eyes on the ground, thoughtful. He had actually thought about going to the canyon for a little while before Dream and Ink’s bickering had snapped him out of his weary thoughts… and it definitely seemed better than spending what was left of the day with people that most likely feared him. “I… I think I’ll stay. Maybe another day.”

Dream seemed somewhat disappointed at his choice, and in a way he was, but he let that stay completely hidden behind a small, understanding smile, much like most of the emotions he ever felt were. “Alright then. I guess we’ll be back in a few… hours? Time flies fast when you’re having fun, heh~”

At least he seemed actually happy, despite how distressed he was when he arrived. Dream would never refuse a chance to help anyone, because it was something he _liked_ , and the true colors of happiness shining through his eyes alone brought a little smile out of Nightmare.

Dream could be truly happy… _without_ him.

Which wasn’t bad.

He was always worried about him when he was with him.

He didn’t want to be a burden.

“Oh, and they also wanted to add more landscape. That was why Ink was coming in the first place…” Dream’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, falsely pouting. “He better still be up to it.”

Nim laughed gently, _“He will. Try not to think much of it; he has a soft side more than he has that hateful side. It will be over one day, we just have to wait.”_

Dream tried to recline on his mother’s words. He wanted to. And he knew she was right; he knew how exaggerated he could be sometimes, and he had to stop letting his mind take control of his real thoughts and take things more lightly than he currently was. In a way, it didn’t happen too often – Dream mentioned it way more than it actually happened, fortunately. Don’t exaggerate. Take it at a comfortable pace. Everything would be alright in due time.

He finally gave in with an innocent sigh. “Alright, alright. But I still approve of the thornbush thing if he brings that up. Just… without thorns?”

Nim laughed again, caressing the skeleton’s forehead. _“I will give it a thought.”_

Dream gave a content, victorious giggle as he marched toward the village. Nightmare did know there was a time where he wouldn’t need to think twice before genuinely living life as happily as Dream was acting… but he couldn’t find those memories. They _were_ there, but they were invisible. He didn’t know if he wanted to clearly remember those… it had been a short lived period of his chaotic life, and… he didn’t want to get too attached to someone he was not…

He was momentarily drawn out of his mind when a caring hand was pressed against his cheekbone, his mother beside him with a reassuring smile. _“Are you sure you will be fine? I can ask Neil to stay close by if you want to…”_

She added that sweet, mocking tone at the end, and Nightmare couldn’t help rolling his eyes, drawling an exaggerated, “Moom…!”

Both laughed, nuzzling playfully. _“I know you will be fine, sweetheart.”_

It was one of those moments of company Nightmare didn’t want to let go of. Not even all the time alone in the world could surpass the feeling of true affection, something he had lacked, been completely deprived of for more years than he could keep count of. It was something that made him remember he wasn’t empty, that somehow served as one of the many pieces that were missing from him.

But out of thousands of people, only two could give him that feeling.

_“We will be right by the village if you need anything.”_

One last caress across his cheekbone before Nim followed Dream, momentarily stopped by the figures of Blueberry and the two humans from his universe happily running past her, seemingly on their way to the village as well. The guardian smiled at their cheerfulness before moving along.

Nightmare watched them all go for a moment before his expression went downcast, and he heavily leaned against the Tree, eyes sadly narrowed instead of relatively wide and curious about the situation around him. Seeing everyone so happy, enjoying their lives, having fun with their friends even if most of them were actually suffering inside… it made him feel strange, and the emptiness that was always consuming him was etched on his traits once there was nobody to pay enough attention.

He was suffering inside was well… but didn’t have that many people to relieve him of the stress. He didn’t have anyone to actually relate to, not even his brother. Not entirely, at least. And it made him feel… like an outcast.

…some things do never change.

**“did he say anything about me?”**

He startled, confused eyes looking to his left then to his right to finally find Error’s motionless figure standing a few feet away from him, only facing him sideways. Nightmare took a couple seconds to answer; his last thought was that Error had been talking to him, specifically, and he made sure there was nobody else around. They had seen each other, but never actually interacted until then. Then again, he never really interacted with anyone…

“…w-who? Ink?”

He had never seen such a thoughtful expression on the black skeleton before. He remembered his smile to be perennial, tainted with psychopathy, his eyes to be wide, fulfilling all the traits of a lunatic… almost like him. Instead, his expression was stoic. Not sad, or angry, or afraid… it was unreadable, but he could tell he was not alright.

Error seemed to slightly nod once, shift a little, as if he were uncomfortable with his own question and not fully ready to hear the answer. **“…yeah.”**

Nightmare shifted his gaze to the grass, thinking, pondering what he could say, if anything at all. He had only just learnt that Ink hated Error for some reason, but he had been caught half-asleep in the middle of a one-sided conversation in which Ink wasn’t actively participating and he was fairly lost in the subject. He could only rely on his brother’s reaction to the whole ordeal.

…

Doubt. He hated to doubt. It caused a strange, uncomfortable feeling in his chest, one that wouldn’t go away easily, and he knew he would feel so much better not saying anything, and he wanted to stay silent and relieve himself of the unnecessary stress, but he had to speak up – he couldn’t just ignore him.

“…um, I guess…?”

His voice wavered a little, but Error paid no mind to that small detail as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking into the horizon still without any readable expression. The sun was slowly setting. **“…figures.”** And he sighed.

Nightmare actually couldn’t hide his curiosity. He was being psychologically attacked, right? If there was one monster in the entirety of the multiverse who knew that that felt like, it was him. And… even if he appreciated his loneliness, he would still want someone to at least relate to, someone that wasn’t his family. “…what problem does he have with you, anyway?”

He almost expected to accidentally make Error uncomfortable with the question and he regretted speaking right away, but the other skeleton only shrugged, turning to face him. **“i have no idea. but he keeps saying all these bad things about me, so… i guess i must’ve messed up somewhere.”**

Nightmare couldn’t help but… pity him all of a sudden. His stance, his expression, the way he spoke softly, lowly… it reminded him of no one but himself. Someone being called out for mistakes he didn’t know he had made? It almost felt like a mirror. Perhaps… there _was_ someone that was more like him, someone that was suffering like everyone else but didn’t have a shoulder to fully lean on.

**“…eh, i have no idea what i’ve ever done to upset him like that, but it probably has to do with whatever happened in life, so… you know what they say, let _bybones_ be _bybones_ and all that stuff. i don’t think he gets that though.”**

Nightmare could tell from a mile away that the little laugh Error uttered was completely fake. He looked down again, mind urging him to say something else, perhaps even uncover something about himself he didn’t know, as Error slowly walked past him. He wasn’t one to start conversations, but he felt like he should…

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t find the words. He couldn’t find the courage, and he instead let the chance go. Error was halfway to the village by the time his mind tried to encourage him again, and he had to lose interest. Another day, maybe… at least he knew he wasn’t entirely alone.

There had always been something different about Error, from the times he’d seen him.

That was a good moment to head back to the canyon and ponder in silence until nighttime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes that first line is from Wreck-It-Ralph. 
> 
> red alert, red alert, ink is being an a-hole again


	3. Despondent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He only came to that cliff to think, to be alone, to be himself for once without having to worry about people staring at him or gossiping. 
> 
> He didn’t want to be there to think of… that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, this came out shorter than I intended it to be.

 

He hadn’t paid that much attention to it until then. Basked in the diminishing light of what was left of the sunset, the sight became even more memorable.

It was nice to see everyone work together, to be able to watch their relationships up close, but it was also somewhat… bizarre. He was used to seeing scattered groups of people, but it was rare to actually see so many of them together at the same time in a same place, and being a witness of it was rather dazzling, especially knowing that all those people weren’t even half the population and it already looked like the Omega Timeline.

It let him see just how big the multiverse was. How big of a responsibility it was.

Having so many people together at once was also his way of seeing how many new friendships had been made, how more than a few bonds had been strengthened, how opposing poles laughed and played and how they helped each other without need to think twice. Day by day, feared people inched closer to the feeling of being completely accepted, to the knowledge of trust amongst everyone, and even without a soul he could feel their joy.

If only _certain skeletons_ were that way…

But he wasn’t about to get into that again. He was too tired to dive into an argument that was always infuriatingly pointless once more, and Ink had already dropped the subject – mostly because he’d forgotten what all the previous bickering had been about. He wasn’t going to remind him straight away, especially not when he seemed so cheerful and inspired as he told the story of how he lost his paintbrush once. Not _that_ once, though. The youngsters from Littletale seemed the most attentive to the artist’s exaggerations.

After weariness had become mutual amongst everyone, some people from the village as well as scattered beings from other universes started conversing over many subjects by then, pacing back and forth between different themes that made them all laugh, gape, and rev their curiosity to the max. It was nice beyond words to see past enemies playfully joke around each other like they had always been friends.

He along with Ink, the brothers from Underswap, Littletale in its entirety, Geno and Underfell’s Toriel had been talking for what seemed like hours on end, but it was a fun pastime and it mostly felt like minutes to them, especially since the latter two were both playfully and seriously disbelieving of Ink’s story and he kept trying to convince them otherwise with his natural flourish.

The appreciated harmony helped Dream forget the problems, both his own and other’s, even if only for a little while. He needed his own moment of peace every now and then. It was bad for him and those around him to force his mind to worry about too many things at once, especially things that were not worth panicking about, and he acknowledged that, but it just wasn’t as easy. Listening to conversations between people he never would have thought would get along was a nice way to disconnect from his agitated mind for a while.

“Hey, how’s your brother?”

Dream zoned out of Ink’s words as he glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Shenshe hopping onto the smooth boulder he was leaning against; her fur and clothes were somewhat dirtied and he wondered if they were a little too enthusiastic about making more space. He appreciated that eagerness, though; everyone had been having fun. 

Regarding her for a moment, Dream had to shrug pensively; not even he knew. It was hard to decipher his brother. It had always been. He had a way to completely hide his real thoughts and emotions much more effectively than he could ever wish to no matter how many false smiles and laughs he could use as a disguise. He was a complete mystery when he wanted to be... and it worried him.

“We’re making some progress, but… he’s still not alright… O-or maybe he is, I don’t…” Dream heaved a small sigh, one that certainly wasn’t intended to hide his worry and self-disappointment. “I don’t know…”

And he really felt like he should know; knowing should be the absolute top priority. Ever since Nightmare came back, he felt like he had to occupy the role of the eldest sibling for the time being, because it was clear that his brother was not yet in the mood to keep caring for him like he was a little kid like he once, very long ago, had, and he didn't want to make him feel like he still had to care for him as much.

Words couldn’t describe how much he missed those times, let alone the times where Nightmare was calm and carefree enough to playfully boss him around and reveal a sassier side to his personality. He didn’t want to forget that Nightmare.

The rabbit’s ears slightly lowered at the uncertain answer. Shenshe hopped off the rock to inch closer to the thoughtful skeleton, sitting next to him in an attempt to reassure him a little. She had always cared a lot for Nightmare, too, and she was willing to do anything to bring him back. “Have you tried going to that cave near the village?”

Dream’s suddenly lost gaze revived a little at the mention of that place, but he was still thoughtful. “Yeah, we went there a couple times… I think he might’ve cheered up a little after that, but, still…”

Technically, he hadn’t cheered up before crying. Dream had seen it coming. The village in all its splendor was a heavy influence to spark his memories, his childhood, chaotic and saddening as it might have been, but that little cave they had so long ago claimed as their own and filled with their deepest memories was the definite switch to trigger their tears, both brimming with happiness and stained with sadness.

Nightmare had nervously kept away from his own journal unlike everything else, pretended it didn’t exist, but Dream had still seen his smile. He just hoped that one smile he gave him was genuine, and he would keep believing it was until Nightmare himself told him otherwise, lie or not.

“…I’m sure he’ll be fine. You never know.”

* * *

He closed his eyes, pondering...

The more he thought about it, the less he understood why Dream forgave him so easily. When he first got there, he had half-expected him to run away, or to at the very least look at him like he deserved to be looked at – without sympathy, with eyes full of fear and hatred. Everyone should have reacted the same way. And yet, he got none of that, and he wanted to understand  _why_...  

Dream's motives never made sense to him. Not entirely. The fact that they were brothers only made his actions  _worse_ , but the other didn't care at all. He had not once even reminded him of what he had done, showed no signs of fear or apprehension when he was with him. It was true that he had never commanded his body to hurt anyone, to destroy anything... but he did anyway, and that was what mattered, wasn’t it?

He didn’t know how, or why, but he did all of that somehow. He saw everything. He was there. Not thinking, not acting, but indeed watching, unable to stop himself, until there was a point where it felt like he no longer existed. Perhaps it was his derailed emotions taking control, perhaps it was the energy of the apples... He didn't know, but he did know it was still  _him_. It was his body and his mind working apart, but it was still him.

He didn't deserve forgiveness.

He didn't deserve friends.

He didn't deserve love.

He deserved nothing.

But he still had that, and he didn’t know why, and he wanted to know, but at the same time he didn’t, and it just felt off, messed up. It was still his fault. Whatever happened, it was his fault; the joke was on him. He wasn’t innocent. He couldn’t be innocent. Despite nobody openly treating him like scum, he still felt like so, and he was still waiting for people to slowly realize that he was the black sheep, the thorn on the side… the bad apple. He just didn’t belong. He knew he didn’t, and he…  _couldn’t_  bring himself to believe Dream.

He sighed emptily.

His legs hung off the cliff, but he wasn’t afraid at all.

His eyes weren’t focused on anything, despite planted on the endless ocean of light right in front of him.

The soft, white glow in the abyss meant nothing to him, like it wasn’t even there. He had stopped acknowledging what surrounded him, stopped acknowledging the gentle light of the sunset, stopped acknowledging himself, because he doubted there even was a “himself” anymore.

...who even  _was_  he, anyway?

It was a question that had flowed into his mind his first day there, and there it had stayed, drilling into his skull, filling him with thoughts he had never considered but that suddenly made perfect sense to him. He was supposed to be a guardian, a protector, a being as sacred and respected as any of the Trees.

…but a protector of  _what_?

Dream had never questioned his role. He knew what he had to do, what he was there for. He knew how to help people, no matter what they could be going through, no matter who they were. Ever since the very beginning of his life, he had helped countless beings. He had always stayed true to who he was meant to be. He had changed the world around him for the better, always strived for the best, like he was meant to. He was still doing so.

But someone like him… what purpose did  _he_  serve? The only person he had ever made happy was his own brother. He had never even had a friend outside his reduced family. Then again, why should  _he_  make people happy? He had never understood his purpose; it was like he was there just to give Dream some unneeded company. He could have been fine on his own, because who would ever want to take those pitch black apples? Heck, who would  _dare_  touch them, aside from a foolish being like him?

He didn’t feel like he had anything to protect. Nobody wanted a swarm of negative feelings. Why would they? They were necessary every once in a while, but he did nothing but spread them. He was purely made out of negativity no matter his ability to understand, to laugh or smile, and it made his entire existence feel vain, useless, a complete waste of space, and the more he thought about it, the more truthful it was. Even when they hadn’t been born yet, Nim never spread any negativity to the few people that existed back then. She was always helpful, charming, just like his brother. Dream was there to maintain a positive side, to give everyone a second chance, and he was there to be despicable, because really, what else would he be good for?

And to put the icing on the cake, he couldn’t even do anything right. Every single creature out there had a friend, someone to rely on, they knew how to live their own lives and nobody bothered anyone, nobody had to pester anyone with their own problems. But him? He was, not only useless, but a burden to everyone. He didn't know how to fend for himself, or how to react to different situations, or how to interact with people, and he was forcing Nim and Dream to constantly look after him like he was some clueless child.

He was as disastrous as the power he was meant to somehow protect.

It was funny to think about it. To remember that the Tree had existed for many years and nobody had ever even thought of taking one of the black apples. Nim had said so herself once; they were  _dangerous_.  _He_  was dangerous. The golden apples could be dangerous too, of course, but people could choose how to use their power, whereas the black ones gave no choice whatsoever aside from becoming a ruthless savage. He knew negativity had to exist, but what he was protecting was a monstrosity under the disguise of seemingly harmless fruits. Dream had poured more sense into his life with just one of his own, used it for the better; it only took one of his to send his mind into a psychotic trance. He knew there was nothing to discuss.

What a chaotic and senseless life, his was… He was an annoyance, a previous psychopath, a terrible brother... He was undoubtedly worse than any past villain there no matter how atrocious their actions could have been, because nobody had hurt people as much as he had…

…yet he was still offered a chance.

A chance he didn't deserve.

A chance he didn't want to take.

Tired eyes looked up at the orange sky, pupils devoid of any spark, almost lifeless, tired, willing to give up. He had always found it funny how days were brought to life by the sun, a sun the existence of which he didn’t know how was even possible… yet every night was full of stars but devoid of any moon, shrouded in more darkness than what would be usual, and nobody ever missed it. He always cowered away from the darkness, never willing to be away from the Tree, from the protection of his mother when night fell.

…how... ironic.

He just didn’t belong there. He didn’t. There was nothing anyone could say to make him think otherwise. He treasured being able to be with his brother, with his mother… but he only had that. Nothing else had made him happy.

He never chose to be brought back. He never would have. He would have rather stayed dead, gone, forgotten, freeing everyone from his useless existence. Freeing himself of the burden he was.

He almost...  _wanted_  to erase himself from the world. They would surely be happier if he was simply gone, gone and remembered by nobody. His life was only full of stress, of disappointment, of foreboding fear… It was like nothing had changed. Everyone was redeeming their lives, but he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to keep on waking every day to either fighting against his broken mind or seeing his brother struggle with himself because of him.

...but Nightmare wanted to be with Dream, even if he wasn't worthy of his company.

...but...

...the thought of being forgotten...

He felt tears welling furiously in his eyes, but he remained motionless, letting them roll down his face, letting them leave soft lavender trails the same color as the sky as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon. He didn’t know what he was even thinking anymore, but he did know he was tearing himself apart with thoughts only a negative being like him could have.

He couldn’t remember if he had ever rejected himself so much before. Every thought was a blow more painful than anything he had ever felt, more scarring than rough object that could have tried to break his skull, harsher than any word that could have tried to break his heart and mind. It was such a familiar feeling, yet it was so foreign, and it scared him. He had to stop and reflect about the utter madness he was thinking of.

He only came to that cliff to think, to be alone, to be himself for once without having to worry about people staring at him or gossiping.

He didn’t want to be there to think of…  _that._

…it was still something to ponder about. He hadn’t even been a month there, anyway. And he would be forgotten. What harm would come? It was certainly better than spending a lifetime suffering in silence…

. . .

He heard footsteps behind him, and he let go of a silent sigh as he looked back down, quickly wiping his tears away without turning around. By that time, people usually began going back into the Underground, plus the fact that most of them were helping enlarge the village, so there were few options as to who that could be.

He had told Dream countless times that he didn't need to look all over the world for him when he left... but that was the one time he  _really_  needed him beside him. Even if he just couldn’t believe him, he needed to hear his reassuring words, feel the love and care of a warm embrace and drain his tears out.

His mind... it was more broken than he had first thought it was. It scared him, even if he mostly agreed with it. He thought it would be a temporary thing until he acknowledged that he was back to normal, that everyone was alive and well, that he wasn’t some bloodthirsty demon, but it was not. He was breaking himself, further and further, and he wanted to be broken, but he didn't want to...

He didn’t even know what he wanted.

…who knew how long it would take him to be himself… whoever that was. Dream was still suffering, Error was still suffering, Ink, in a way, was still suffering… a lot of people were, or had been little time ago. And nobody was nearly as broken at him. Perhaps he would never redeem his mind, he would be forced to cope with his inner pain forever without anybody knowing, and if anyone close to him found out, he would only hurt them inside almost as badly as he was hurting himself… and it just made him want to. . .

_Shut up._

He really needed him. He really needed him there, with him, even if he wasn’t entirely willing to tell him what was going through his mind. He needed his family beside him, and he didn’t want them to ever let go.

As he waited for the other to reach him, he could only notice how the footsteps were... strange. For some reason, even if grass was generally noisy, they sounded rather heavy, slow, like someone was trying to be cautious yet fully aware that the grass was blowing their cover. It was a strange gait, not at all like Dream’s soft, steady one, and curiosity was about to make him turn around until a voice, a voice that surely wasn't his brother's or anybody he knew, sinisterly cooed...

"Here, skelly, skelly..."

His entire body suddenly froze in fear, in panic; he felt every individual chill creeping up his entire body, locking him in place like the entire world had completely paused.

It was not Dream, it was not Nim, it was nobody from the village that he knew of, it wasn’t Blueberry, Error or Ink, and he didn't know anybody else who could have the slightest interest on his wellbeing, let alone someone who sounded so intentionally ominous. He had to pair it up with the fact that very,  _very_  few people ever went there, and he had never seen anyone aside from Dream and sometimes Ink hang out there so late.

His eyes were wide as the grass kept softly crunching, closer, closer,  _too close_ , and the stranger’s gait seemed to quicken each second that tensely ticked by. Whoever that was was certainly approaching too much without revealing himself in any way, and it forced him to look over his shoulder in fearful suspicion. He wanted to believe he was probably thinking about it too much, being overly paranoid, but he did  _not_  want to have someone who had the voice of a murderer that close to him without knowing who it was, and if it was a joke, it was most definitely not funny.

He wished he hadn’t turned around.

He only saw a shadow, humanoid, the glint of a dagger shining against the white light of the canyon, and it lunged at him, and he screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is why we can't have nice things.


	4. Stop the Unstoppable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you alright?”
> 
> Nightmare looked at her for a moment, wordless, wondering why she wasn’t lecturing him, chastising him for having potentially put the Tree and even her and Dream in danger. “I… y-yes…”
> 
> “Then that is all that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does it take me so long to updateeeee.
> 
> I'm glad I scared you with the previous chapter. No, it's not time for any funeral yet. Maybe... ;P
> 
> And no, you're not meant to know who this mystery person is yet. As a hint, though... only very dedicated Dreamtale fans will suspect. ;3

He was panting and tripping over himself by the time he finally caught sight of the Tree after what seemed like hours running, tears filling his eyes and threatening to completely blur his vision as he desperately scrambled up the low hill that led to the imposing plant, moonless night engulfing everything in darkness and further making it feel like a heart he didn’t have was about to tear through his chest.

It was bad enough that he was being chased; darkness always gave him an unexplainable feeling when he wasn’t with someone he knew, one he didn’t like, one that made it seem like the entire world was suddenly against him and he was all alone, left to face nonexistent dangers on his own. Those two little issues most definitely did _not_ work well together, and they only strengthened his rapidly growing panic.

His legs were aching by the time he got there, like they were being constantly hammered. Each step he took made him feel like he carried an entire mountain on his back, made him believe he was going to keel over any time, and he wasn’t sure how he was still keeping himself upright, let alone still moving; he had never run faster in his life, and he didn’t even know how he had reached that speed.

He had never been a runner, and lacked any kind of high energy. He was naturally lethargic; running and prancing around simply wasn’t his thing, so he really had no idea how his body hadn’t begged him to stop moving altogether yet. The sheer adrenaline, probably, even though death had seemed like an option for him just moments ago…

All he knew was that he was hyperventilating and his mind was complete chaos. He’d almost forgotten where he was going or where he even was until he saw the leaves slowly appear behind the small elevation in the terrain, almost feeling like a mirage, then a miracle, and he immediately locked onto it as his final destination.

He hadn’t looked back since he narrowly missed a slash most likely aimed at his head, and he certainly wasn’t going to do so as he hurriedly climbed all the way up the Tree with natural ease, making sure not to go anywhere near Dream’s side even if his mind was racing and panicking like it had never before. He couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to focus so much on that small yet crucial detail; he _had_ nearly run into many rocks and hills in his frantic dash, the footsteps right behind him only fueling his adrenalized stamina and making him consider any obstacle as nonexistent.

Whoever that was was solely after him, that was a fact, even though he had stopped hearing footsteps about halfway there, but he was most definitely not going to stop because of that. He could hardly hear his own feet pounding against the grass beneath the sound of his own pants and terrified sobs, so he had no confirmation of the exact whereabouts of his attacker and he could be hot on his heels for all he knew.

Barely able to keep himself together, tears silently falling like violet waterfalls, he scrambled through the shivering branches, leaves falling like snow at the sudden shaking, not stopping until he was nearly at the top where he forced himself to go utterly quiet as he found of a branch thick enough for him to rest on, unable to do anything else but lean against the trunk in exhaustion, surrounded by leaves and those hellish fruits he couldn’t even look at.

That was when his entire body felt numb, when he found himself unable to stop panting, and when an even truer fear began to kick in. When he actually _felt_ his exhaustion.

He closed his eyes, mostly to try and further ease his breathing, to try and ignore the world, to do everything he could to pretend it was all an illusion and believe he hadn’t been seconds away from certain death or something worse, but he still knew it was true.

It was a good thing the night was cold; he had used too much energy and he felt like he was burning, suffocating, but he really would rather cope with that high discomfort before finding himself slowly turning to dust with a knife embedded in his chest.

It took every inch of his rational subconscious not to burst into any more tears and remain as calm as possible; he couldn’t take the risk of being heard.

The last thing he wanted was to be detected. He was sure he had gained quite a distance on that humanoid before, because he had heard him laughing after his attack narrowly missed, taking a few seconds to dash after him, taunting him; he could confirm so when the footsteps came back a few seconds after he hid, and whoever that was didn’t sound in a rush when he finally caught up, so he put his heart into believing he _didn’t_ see him climb up the Tree.

It was the only thing that was keeping him safe.

From that angle, he could see a fraction of what was below him between the leaves and branches, and his quivering body shifted to look beneath him with caution, still softly panting, making extra sure he wasn’t moving a single leaf or making the branch creak as he looked down. His eyes scanned the small area, but he couldn’t see him, and his breath hitched as he straightened again, suddenly not wanting to keep track of that man anymore.

He was really, _really_ afraid.

He leaned against the trunk, exhaling a quiet, trembling breath. His hands were shaking, one gripping a smaller branch above him like it was a lifeline. He had been afraid of many things before, had felt that uncomfortable crumple in his chest more than once since he got there. He had been afraid of himself, of his thoughts, of people’s plausible opinions, of failing… but he had never feared for his life there, not since… back _then_ … and that was a hopeless feeling he certainly hadn’t missed.

He needed someone with him. _Anyone_ , even someone he didn’t know. Whoever that was, he certainly was not joking around, let alone friendly; the cut in his arm, that had thankfully only torn through his attire and barely grazed bone as he basically lurched to his side when the blade swung, was clear proof of it. That man wanted him dead. Or at least wanted him in pain.

But there was no one there to help him.

It was almost completely nighttime, _they should have been back._

But no, there was nobody around, except for that human, humanoid, whatever he was, he hadn’t managed to get a good enough look at him and he wasn’t _that_ interested in doing so. He couldn’t even hear voices nearby, and all he could do aside from uselessly trying to calm himself down was to wonder _who_ that was, and most importantly, _why_ he was trying to seemingly kill him.

People weren’t supposed to attack each other there, right? Evil didn’t exist in that world, _right_?

But the mysterious being below the Tree completely disregarded that, made it seem like an utter lie made to keep people calm. Nightmare could hear him shift around, circling the Tree like a predator awaiting its prey, and he silently flinched when he finally saw him through the small space between leaves and branches. He couldn’t exactly see well at night, especially when it was barely illuminated, but the figure certainly screamed human, just not any he’d seen before; a man clad in white robes too similar to his own, dark haired, wielding an unusual dagger.

Humans were not too distinct in the multiverse; there were few that weren’t different personalities of Frisk, Chara or the lost souls, and that person could very well be from his village given that a great variety of humans nonexistent in any other universe lived there… which would explain more than a few things.

After all, it wasn’t the first time someone from the village wanted him dead and gone.

But he was sure he had never seen that person in his life, in any of his lives; even if he had no reason to remember every face in the town, he could tell if they were familiar or not, and that person did not ring a single bell. It could be because of the darkness – he hadn’t even gotten a proper look at his face, but he certainly didn’t recall someone dressed in white.

There was still a chance he wasn’t even from his own universe, anyway. There were a lot of people there the existence of which he was still unaware of, so he couldn’t let himself be surprised by a new face.

He _was_ indeed surprised by a new face that _wanted_ to harm someone, though.

Or perhaps he was _only_ after him, for reasons he wouldn’t think about too much given that they would be certainly obvious. It made morbid sense… If there was some loose, murderous human around, surely people would have noticed by now, especially with so many eyes to keep track of what was happening around them. Of _course_ he had to be the first to experience an attack, he had to be the first to become an actual target. 

He suddenly didn’t want to be gone. He wanted _him_ gone.

But there was nothing he could do aside from hiding.

He curled onto himself, his balance natural; the human didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. Nightmare was sure he couldn’t have seen him hide, but he wasn’t precisely a lucky charm. Probably the opposite of that, and chances were there could be more than one human or other living being after him, supporting that potential killer.  

He silently looked toward the general direction of the village, still trying to ease his breathing and stop his terrified tears, but that little spot below him was all he could clearly see; too many leaves, and darkness didn’t make it any better. He would do _anything_ to have someone beside him, reassuring him, keeping that man away from him, but he was alone and on his own, and his only defense was his climbing abilities.

He could have run toward the village instead, but he was panicking and he feared he wouldn’t make it in time, and the Tree was the first thing he had seen – it was not the first time he had used it as a hiding spot. Besides, he would have brought a dangerous being in the middle of many defenseless monsters and humans, and he could have attacked someone else, and it would have been purely because of him and there would be no denying that. He was enough at fault; that would only be the icing on the cake…

So all that was left for him was huddle up and wait.

Whether he was waiting for safety or waiting for his doom, only time would tell…

…the conversation in the distance could tell too.

Nightmare immediately perked up as he caught the sound of something aside from the slow footsteps beneath him, a sound he couldn’t possibly be happier and more relieved to hear, and he instinctively looked in its direction even if all he could see was brown and dark green and _black_ , and he hoped and prayed they weren’t just passing by.

Yes; whoever was talking was far away, but they were surely approaching.

The man stopped shifting around, likely having heard the voices too. They were approaching at a decent speed, and it took only a few seconds for Nightmare to finally distinguish them. A soft, calm voice, brimming with inner happiness, accompanied by a melodic voice he recognized even faster, and he was quick to put two and two together: Dream and Nim.

He almost wanted to straight up scream for help, shout at them to come immediately, lurch himself off the Tree and dash into his mother’s arms, but he couldn’t; apprehension was too strong, he was paralyzed by fear, and the human was still down there, listening, waiting.

…he hoped he wouldn’t hurt them instead… but it wasn’t like Nim would allow so, and being a guardian, she wasn’t one people would want to mess with. Her powers surpassed that of any living being currently living there, except for the other guardians’. Nightmare just realized he didn’t even know who they were, or where they were, or what they looked like, if they were in the afterlife with everyone else or still alive. Nim had never mentioned them much – not that they’d asked about them.

He certainly wasn’t about to ask about them or anything else while his life was in danger.

He silently flinched when the human moved again, a couple of steps taken, and Nightmare could’ve sworn he heard him angrily mutter something. He was right beneath him, he could tell…

The lower branches, one of them at least, jerked, and for a terrifying moment, he thought the man had started climbing the Tree either because knew he was there, to hide from a much more powerful being just like he was hiding from him, or to ambush the two. He wanted none of that, and his whole body tensed and he didn’t even dare to breathe.

But instead of making the same ruckus he had, the leaves below only shivered twice, and along with the rustling were two low cracks, unmistakably like something had been hastily ripped off of them. It wouldn’t make any sense for that person to rip off some leaves or twigs unless he was just venting his vexation, Nightmare thought, which meant…

. . .he _didn’t_ … did he?

He had definitely taken something from the lower branches, on _his_ side of the Tree… and there was only one thing that could be taken at all.

He froze at the thought, and he really, really, _really_ wished he only tore off a few leaves in frustration because his murder attempt had been foiled.

He heard him sprinting off at uncanny speed.

* * *

He hadn’t been able to find the courage to tell what happened, neither straight away nor a few minutes later, and panic had driven him to feign being asleep amongst countless leaves instead when asked if he was there. He regretted it, he deeply regretted it, but speaking had been impossible; panic hammered in his chest, kept his body unable to stop trembling. He hadn’t even been able to say yes, only hum affirmatively, which further made it seem like he was half asleep.

He still hadn’t actually fallen asleep.

It was fully dark when he zoned back into reality, barely any sound keeping the atmosphere alive aside from the distant voices, especially the laughter, in the Underground, the village or anywhere else. Nightmare reckoned it should have been a few hours since he was almost killed for no apparent reason, and his eyes had only been closed whenever he blinked. He couldn’t sleep, even if he truly wanted and needed to.

That branch had stopped being comfortable a while ago, but he didn’t find it in him to complain. He had too much to ponder about, specifically why that person wanted him dead so badly after weeks there without any harm done, and why he had stolen the apples, _if_ he actually had, even though those subtle jerks of the branches couldn’t tell much more. 

…he felt _useless_.

Even if he couldn’t confirm it, he couldn’t deny he had done nothing to protect the Tree from danger. The only time he had been given a reason to protect it, to fulfill his role in life, he did _nothing_ , a chance completely wasted. That person was undoubtedly hostile; he could have tried to cut it down for all he knew and he would have done nothing but hide in the upper branches until they brought him to the ground with them.

If his mother knew…

Well, she _had_ to know, and he wasn’t about to keep it from her.

 _Someone had possibly taken more than one black apple, for everything’s sake!_ How could he _not_ tell her? He should have told her as soon as he heard her voice, should have indeed hurled himself off the Tree and screamed the whole story no matter if the human was still there, but he didn’t, and that guy was loose, loose with a knife and certain other immensely dangerous weapons.

He didn’t do it because he was a coward. Dream would have done something.

He took a slow breath in, and shuddered. The air was really, really cold; he wasn’t tired anymore, and he was no longer shivering because of the fear but because of the wintry ambient. He had been so submerged in his thoughts while at the same time thinking of nothing that he hadn’t realized how cold it had become until he finally commanded his body to do something other than uncomfortably sit on a branch.

He had to tell Nim as soon as possible. He couldn’t waste any more time. That madman could come back.

About to come back down, Nightmare paused for a moment when his eyes unavoidably met the pitch black fruits hanging off the same branches that had potentially saved his life. He felt sick inside for the few seconds he maintained eye contact with them, and he kept climbing off without any further look. It was almost ironic that he would pay not to have them there, but at the same time panicked at the thought of them having been taken.

He had probably messed up again, and _badly_. Those things were not supposed to be anywhere but there; if there was any evil left in that world, it was there, stored away from everyone.

There, and with that human, thanks to him.

…he was slowly starting to realize how grave it really was.

He silently hopped off the trunk, trying not to make much noise, and he paused as he turned to face the two figures sheltered beneath the countless leaves. Nim and Dream were both soundly sleeping, and he definitely knew it had been more than a few hours since he missed his chance to tell his mother what happened before the human got away.

He wondered if he should wake her up… it _was_ important after all, but the sense of guilt was almost as powerful as the utter panic he’d felt when he helplessly hid himself from a possible madman out to end his life and probably ruin others, rooting his feet to the ground, stealing his voice.

 _No_. It was _not_ the time to be a coward. If it was his fault, then he would accept it.

He was about to at least try and call her, but found himself forced to pause, pause to the sound of quiet, frightened whimpers, to the sporadic, sorrowed  _no_ 's and  _don't go_ 's and  _come back_ 's, and he slightly craned forward to find the yellow splotch from which the frightened sounds were coming from.

His brother was beside Nim; clinging to her arm, his eyes shut tight, faintly shivering.

Again...?

Nightmare intently looked at him for a few seconds, questioning whether or not to wake him up, or tell his mother about that instead, or wake up both of them and get all he was itching to say out, but he stopped himself again.

He knew he couldn’t wake him up. It could be harmful.

But it was a heartwrenching sight anyway, no matter how vivid his visions were.

"...Dream?"

He wasn’t heard; his brother kept murmuring things, sometimes incoherent, shivered every now and then. His ribcage heaved; he was breathing quietly yet heavily, distressed.

At least it was a mild nightmare, compared to the other times he had seen him helplessly suffering in his sleep; he'd shriek, snap his head to the side, react violently to the touch... The fact that he wasn't doing any of that did not mellow the impact it had on the eldest at all, and he had witnessed it way too many times in the span of the three weeks he had been there – he could only acknowledge the fact that Dream had been there for  _centuries_ , and had been going through those visions for that exact amount of time; including back in life.

…he had to acknolwedge the fact that he couldn’t do anything about that.

The one thing he _could_ do was tell his mother what happened.

It was hard to fight against guilt and fear; they were stronger than he was, especially together, but he couldn’t be brought down, neither could he make the same mistakes again. If what he thought had happened really did happen, then lives could be at risk, especially his, and the Tree could be in serious danger too.

With a sigh, he quietly made his way around the guardian first, sitting next to Dream. He couldn’t contain his urge to be there beside him, comforting him even if he probably didn’t know he was there and, worst of all, was likely seeing him killing him. Dream had always been there for him… but he had never taken that role. It was about time, wasn’t it?

…even if he was nothing but a useless heap of bones that only caused trouble.

A careful, comforting hand landed on the trembling shoulder, softly ran across his arm as hurting eyes looked at Dream’s frightened figure before they panned to their mother. He was still ashamed and disappointed in himself for not having said anything earlier; she could have caught that guy, but thanks to him, he was on his merry way to causing potential trouble.

While being chased, he had the desire to not die…

…he was starting to wonder if he should have jumped or let that dagger take his life–

_Shut up._

“Mom…?”

His voice involuntarily shook and was much lower than he had intended it to be, but at least it only took that for empty eyes to part open. Nim was never a deep sleeper; her energy functioned different than that of other living beings, and sleeping was merely a small rest when there was nothing much to do. She and the other guardians needed it every once in a while, indeed, but even a few minutes would generally suffice.

Her gaze shifted to meet the two skeletons beside her; one unable to sleep calmly, which, paired with him clinging to her arm, was the first thing she noticed, the other timidly looking at her with expectant yet evasive eyes. It was sadly rare for Nightmare to start up conversations, even with her, and considering that it was late at night, she couldn’t help but be a little worried, especially since he had supposedly been sleeping.

 _“Yes…?”_ she asked softly, keeping wary attention of the lightly stirring Dream as well. Nightmare couldn’t help tapping his phalanges together in thought as he figured out how to let out what he desperately needed to say, a sudden nervous tic. He wasn’t exactly afraid. He _was_ , but he was mostly distraught, heavily reluctant to speak but aware that he had to do so.

“I, uh… I… need to talk to you, mom…”

That was when Nim became certain there was a problem indeed – perhaps troublesome, perhaps nothing but a little issue, but a problem nevertheless. Nightmare was never one to raise his voice, but he was speaking quieter than usual, clearly upset about something, and it really did have to be bothering him for him to seek her word.

Her first thought was him worrying about Dream, to whom her gaze fell upon as he quietly whimpered, trying to curl into himself. He was holding on to her arm like he would die if he let go, but she had seen much, _much_ worse than that; she had seen him screaming, flailing, unable to come back to reality way too many times, but there was nothing that could be done. Even though it wrenched her heart, she couldn’t deem it a worrisome problem, especially when it was such a relatively mild vision.

Her suspicions proved to be false, though, when Nightmare quickly added, “It’s- it’s not about him, it’s about… me… K-kind of…?”

He immediately had her full attention as he nervously shifted, sitting right next to and almost leaning into his distressed brother in an attempt to comfort him, a subconscious impulse, even though he feared he was making it worse by simply being there, because the him Dream was probably seeing was certainly not as caring.

Sometimes, he wished he would be the one going through that; seeing his brother suffering only seemed like the cruel punishment that should have fallen upon him instead. He was the only one who deserved to fall victim to insomnia, and the only one who deserved to undergo the same, unforgiving pain Dream unjustly went through each and every single time he tried to close his eyes and disconnect from a world in which he didn’t belong.

He was powerless against that.

But that wasn’t what was worrying him, entirely; what he _was_ worrying about could have a solution unlike his brother’s anxiety, and he realized he was stalling because his chest was still hammering and he felt discomfort all over him.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, though it didn’t really work as much as he wanted it to.

“…a few minutes before you and Dream came back… I…”

More words refused to come out for a second, but he fought against that apprehension that had been weighing him down for too long without giving him a chance to defend himself. He had that feeling, like he was about to start crying, and he wasn’t sure why. He did know he had many reasons to, though… especially the shock of having been inches away from death.

“I was… attacked.”

He clearly saw that hint of sudden disbelief and confusion on his mother’s face – not that he found it strange in any way, because he was still having trouble himself wondering why someone had harmful intentions in a world where not even the most wicked of people ever even thought of hurting someone, especially after thousands of years given that he had been the only being left alive for that amount of time, – before they were taken over by worry.

Unavoidably, he panicked. The strength of guilt and fear struck him from time to time, and they grew more powerful by the second until he couldn’t stop tears that wouldn’t fall from welling in his eyes. He really was trying not to lose it and remain calm, but the power of confusion was unbound. “I-it’s all messed up, I- I s-should’ve told you before now, I–“

There immediately was a comforting hand on his shoulder that softly stopped him from standing up and pacing nervously, a gentle hush allaying his nerves. _“Slow down, slow down. Please, take a breath and tell me what happened, from the beginning.”_

Nightmare managed to even his breath out, tears still not having fallen. He nodded sheepishly, his body no longer as tense but still clearly distraught. “O-okay…” A few more quiet intakes of the cold air of the night, a little push of courage. “I-I was… I was sitting by the cliff, like normally… And- and when I was about to leave, someone, a- a human I’m pretty sure, snuck behind me and tried to attack me. M-maybe kill me for all I know… h-he had a knife.”

Nim was not trying to hide her worry; it was almost too unbelievable to keep herself calm. In the countless years she had been there she had not witnessed or even heard of any kind of attack, except for Ink’s tantrum around Error and some other harmless quarrels between people that did not yet know how to get along together. That was entirely new – and entirely dangerous.

The fraught skeleton briefly glanced at his arm, and Nim saw the gash in his clothing which only sent her alarms blaring louder.

“A-and that’s not even the worst of all…”

She remained quiet, letting Nightmare explain himself and analyzing the situation, wondering why someone would attack all of a sudden. It couldn’t have possibly been a misunderstanding, but she wished it had been. It didn’t make any sense… but she was certain beyond words that Nightmare was _not_ lying or exaggerating anything.

“I ran to the Tree… I- I should’ve gone to the village but I didn’t know if I would have enough time, and h-he was dangerous and I didn’t know how close to me he was…” Nightmare took another small breath in. “And… right before you came back, he left, but I think… and I only t- _think_ …”

He paused, words stopping dead on their tracks before revealing themselves, leaving Nightmare nervously stuttering, fidgeting. He thought they were done tormenting him, but guilt and fear added even more weight onto his shoulders, keeping him from saying a word for a few seconds. She would be mad at him. She had every right to be. The only thing he could do was picture it coming and accept it.

He slightly braced himself. “He… he might’ve… _stolen_ … the black apples…?”

There was a blank expression on the guardian’s face for a moment, one that inwardly scared Nightmare because he knew if what he was saying really was true then all responsibility would be on him, and there would be no one to deny that. “I… don’t really know how many… I doubt he took more than maybe three… I-i- _if_ he actually _did_ take them…!”

More seconds of silence, a small blink of empty eyes. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder through his explanation moved to gently cup his cheek… and much to his confusion, Nightmare saw anything but anger or disappointment on the dryad’s traits. _“Are you alright?”_

Nightmare looked at her for a moment, wordless, wondering why she wasn’t lecturing him, chastising him for having potentially put the Tree and even her and Dream in danger. “I… y-yes…”

Nim’s expression softened even more so, and Nightmare couldn’t understand why she wasn’t fuming; she hadn’t even _looked_ at the Tree, even though it wouldn’t do much as the disappearance of such a small number of fruits, if any, was hardly noticeable. _“Then that is all that matters.”_

The skeleton stammered, not knowing what to say at that point. He hadn’t expected to be forgiven just like that. At the very least, he had expected to be questioned, to be asked why he didn’t say anything sooner, why he didn’t even try going to the village which wasn’t all that far from the Tree and certainly much closer than the cliff was. “B-but, the Tree-“

_“We will figure this out. It was not your fault.”_

Nightmare slightly but harshly pulled back in utter confusion, prompting Nim to retreat her hand. “H-how is it _not_ my fault? Who knew what that guy wanted… w-what if his intention was to hurt the Tree? I led them right to it and I did nothing! I even pretended to be asleep because I was t-too afraid and ashamed to tell you right away… H-he could’ve-!”

_“Nightmare.”_

He stopped, wishing to say more, to vent his frustration, to apologize over and over again, but he couldn’t. _“It was not your fault. I can understand why you said nothing about it even though you feel you should have. Had it happened to your brother, he would have made a mistake one way or another. You… are not yet meant to take this responsibility, and especially not here, and now.”_

Nightmare could only look at her, silent, in confusion, barely noticing as Dream slightly stirred beside him. He seemed calmer.

“…b-but…”

 _“…we need to talk. We will get to the bottom of this, together, as soon as Dream wakes up. There are… many things I should have told you much before now, and given that there would be no danger here, I had decided to leave that aside… It seems there_ can _be rogue people out there, somehow.”_

She leaned against the Tree, Dream shifting in look for further comfort; he definitely was much calmer, having loosened his terrified grip on her arm. Nim gave Nightmare a patient look, _“Come here.”_

Her son complied, cuddling alongside Dream. He was really tired, really afraid, really confused, and he didn’t know why she was taking it so lightly, or what the whole not yet ready for that responsibility truly meant. An arm wrapped around the two, and Nightmare couldn’t help blinking heavily as a wave of heartfelt care washed over him, lulling him to close his eyes.

_“Get some sleep; we will talk about it in the morning. All that matters now is that you are safe.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it might take a little while for this story to fully kick off, but once we get to the real angst this will be an unstoppable rollercoaster of feels, and it won't have mercy on your hearts, and why do I love scaring people. 
> 
> One thing, though: I'm going on vacation a week from now. I won't have a PC and given that I don't like writing on the phone it's likely that I won't update for a while (I'll be away for 15 days), but I will try. uwu


	5. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In one way or another, he was dying inside; too many impossible occurrences happening all at once, and it seemed like all logic in that world was slowly breaking away at the will of some unknown human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well what do you know I actually managed to update.
> 
> I'm not so sure about the pacing of this chapter. I might edit it once I get back
> 
> beware there might be typos everywhere

She gravely pondered.

It made little to no sense to her. She was bent on believing Nightmare, because she _knew_ he was telling a worrisome truth and she would never doubt of anything he said... but the problem was that it was hard to believe.

She had spent thousands of years there, making sure peace was restored, helping people adjust, allaying every problem no matter how small and insignificant... patiently awaiting the return of her children whom she had never actually spent real time with aside from letting them listen to her voice. No one had ever even _thought_ of attacking someone, friend or enemy, acquaintance or bystander, no matter how dangerous they could have been or how stressed they were. Nightmare's words had caught her completely off-guard, and she had her own moment of disbelief at first.

She could just wonder _why_ , what the point was, and most especially who could have had such an insane idea, and she knew someone was bound to get into some serious trouble if their actions weren't justified in the most reasonable of ways. Not that trying to hurt the most timid and passive being around for no apparent reason had any excuse, anyway, and she was going to look back and forth through the entire village until she was sure the culprit wasn't one of the resident humans; she would be more furious than she already was if it had been one of them than if it had been some random human from some random universe.

She couldn't help but be annoyed at not being able to understand no matter how hard she tried to, mostly because there probably was nothing to understand at all. There were countless beings all living in the same place and she knew someone was bound to dislike this and that for their own reasons, and there had been cases of stressed and frightened people who chose to stay away from others and act aloof — she was not going to mention any creator or destroyer, — but going as far as _attacking_ , likely with killing intent? No one had ever reported unusual behavior on someone or felt seriously threatened; it was hard to comprehend why that human would have wanted to potentially kill someone, especially after that many uneventful years.

Let alone meddle with the Tree.

Through mental anguish she had managed to downplay her reaction when Nightmare told her that that person could have potentially stolen a small yet incredibly dangerous and irresponsible number of fruits — the black apples at that. Words couldn't describe the immense preoccupation that struck her like furious waves and the urge she had to get an immediate description of the assailant, but the little skeleton was panic-stricken enough; the last thing he needed was her natural, severely worried reaction, and the only reason she put it aside was for his own wellbeing.

She hadn't downplayed her worry toward her son. Never. She would be anything but lying if she was to state she would rather lose a few fruits to some possibly dangerous stranger with unknown intentions than any of her children, but that didn't mean she wasn't deeply afraid of what could happen if Nightmare's suspicions turned out to be true. People had to know how to use the power of the apples and what kind of change, physical, psychological or both, those who took them would undergo; only she and the two skeletons knew all there was to know through natural knowledge along with trial and error, and if that person had intentions to hurt, then nothing good was bound to happen if he really did take the fruits _and_ hadn't died in the attempt to consume them.

...it was something she had always feared, and knowing it could have happened destroyed her inside. She was no longer connected to the Tree. She had no way of knowing what was happening around it or if someone was trying to hurt it. It was true that nothing had happened to it for millenniums... but there was a first time for everything, and that could be it.

That was only one amongst the many things she had yet to tell the dormant skeletons beside her... the many things she should have told them a long time ago and that would have changed their ways of seeing the world drastically.

She gave them both a sideways glance. Much to her surprise, Dream had fully calmed down only a few minutes after Nightmare fell asleep next to him, something that had rarely ever happened and that she was more than glad to witness. He did wake up briefly, confused, only for him to further relax after seeing his brother with him.

They were still sound asleep as the sun slowly crept back to life, an enchanting, dark orange glow suppressing the darkness of one eventful night. It wasn't like she was ready to tell them... but she had brought that weight upon herself, and it was about time to let it go. They had more than a reason to know, especially after the attack; Nightmare would keep blaming himself for not having done anything and Dream would try to protect both his brother and the Tree as soon as he knew what had happened without thinking twice. She could not let that happen, for their own good.

But for the time being, she instead focused on the calm environment that surrounded her and allayed her worry. People were showing signs of life again, some already prancing and running around the gentle light of the sunrise and others simply taking their time to shake the sleep off their bodies and enjoy the morning sight.

Nim suddenly felt like all those people could be in serious danger. That in the blink of an eye, they could find themselves running for their lives just like Nightmare, and some might not have luck by their side. Someone could have actually died, and she would have no idea, and no way to make sure of it. There was a potential madman on the loose; who could predict what he was willing to do? It would break her heart to know that their lives could be at stake and no one would know if they had lost someone.

At least they had many eyes to scan the area. If someone was running around carrying a knife and threatening to hurt someone, at least one person would sound the alarm and eventually everyone would know. There were many ways to spot maniac, it would all be alright... She had to stop worrying so much, because she was fully aware she was only making things worse for herself. She was preoccupied enough already, both about something that had happened and something she didn't really know had happened or not, and there was no point in letting her nerves loose without having heard all sides to the story.

"Mornin'."

She left her thoughts aside and slowly looked over her shoulder toward the source of a voice she recognized, finding Ink playfully hanging off the lower branches of the Tree.

She would have normally been able to detect his presence there. She wouldn't know if that same guy snuck up on them again. It was no wonder she was always so paranoid over the wellbeing of the Tree even in a world where no evil existed, _supposedly_ ; it hadn't been the first time oblivious people from other universes, normally more innocent ones such as Littletale and Candytale, tried to play around the Tree and got a little too close for the guardian's comfort.

But Ink mostly knew what he was doing, even though he could be reckless sometimes. She trusted him enough to know he wouldn't do anything that could potentially harm the Tree in any way, but she still didn't want him growing too comfortable about using the branches as his own personal playground. Nevertheless, she still gave him a soft smile, and she calmly chided, _"Get down from there."_

The artist chuckled, hopping off. "This is the only tree around. For some people it's tempting to climb it, and that's no lie."

_"There is a reason why they have learnt to fight said temptation."_

Ink walked next to her, staring into the horizon, already brimming with people as morning light illuminated everything. "Okay, okay... I'll make sure to draw a little sign for the troublemakers to stay away."

_"You are the only one who still tries to climb it aside from Nightmare."_

Ink gave her a look. "...touche."

Nim watched him seemingly relax, eyes closed as a gentle morning breeze waved his scarf. For others, it would be perfectly normal; for her, who knew him well enough after he showed childish enthusiasm about the existence of the guardians and talked to her for hours on end most of the time, it was odd. The dryad knew something was changing with his overall demeanor; he wasn't as loud, flamboyant and active as he was a few years ago, and she was really beginning to notice. He was still his own self most of the time, but it looked like he was... tired. He didn't always show it, but it was much more noticeable when he was resting or just watching people. He seemed distant sometimes... and it had been going on for too long for her to keep guessing.

She also had to note he wasn't even smiling, just stoic. It wasn't the first time she saw him motionlessly stare into the horizon with no readable expression, sometimes for nearly an hour, and it had happened more often than not.

_"Is something bothering you?"_

He curiously glanced at her, like her question had caught him off-guard. Something in his expression shifted, and Nim could clearly see... he _did_ look tired. Not tired like one would be after running up and down a mountain without pause, more like someone who was stressed and didn't want to admit it. She had seen that same expression on Dream enough times for her to recognize it on anyone else.

"Is it... that obvious?"

It was Nim's turn to be caught off-guard with his question, and the curiosity in her traits slowly became preoccupation as she looked at him just as he averted his gaze to stare at the nearly infinite sight before him again. He suddenly didn't sound as cheerful.

The guardian didn't exactly know how to respond. _"Depends... What_ is _obvious?"_

"...I'm... really stressed."

Just like she had figured, but exact confirmation only made her worry more.

"I feel like I'm carrying a lot of weight, you know? When..." He visibly faltered. "When the multiverse still existed... I had an idea of how big it was and the huge responsibility I had. But seeing everyone together, all in one place... It's always amazed be, but not exactly in a good way. I actually had no idea how big it was and how differently everyone thought. It's like I never actually knew how this whole thing worked. I still feel like they're my responsibility... especially after I failed so many of them... and that's still a lot to get my head around even after so many years, I guess."

There was a moment of silence between the two, Nim analyzing his words and Ink thinking them over and wondering why he never told anyone. He didn't think it would matter that much to someone else, since he considered it a fairly trivial issue. He felt like he was right while at the same time he felt like he was wrong, but he mostly chose to listen to the side of him that told him he was right because it was the heaviest of the two.

"Well, not like it matters." He suddenly announced, sounding and looking as nonchalant as always while he stretched his arms above his head. "I shouldn't be monologuing about stuff that doesn't matter. Some people have it worse. Besides... I'm being overprotective, it's not like anything will happen to them."

Speaking of...

Ink was on his off when Nim felt the need to tell him what happened; even if she only had one vague description of what actually happened, it was still motive of worry and more people had to start watching out just in case. They couldn't be as carefree as they had always been with some crazy human on the loose, or else someone could lament having let their guard down.

_"Actually..."_

The artist halted immediately, turning to look at her with curiosity, and she inwardly felt bad about telling him that people could be endangered after he revealed he was overwhelmed by the amount of universes all piled up together and his natural need to protect them, but she had to.

_"...there was an attack last night."_

Ink blinked in confusion. "What."

_"As you hear. Nightmare could have been hurt badly... Some human wielding a knife tried to attack him. I have not yet gotten a description of him, though; that is what I am waiting for."_

Ink blinked again, completely taken aback. If there was one thing he would never think would happen to him or anyone, it was an attack. An attack with true harmful intent. It couldn't happen. It wasn't _supposed_ to happen. Everyone had completely forgotten their evil ways and started over — except for maybe certain glitchy freak the name of which he wasn't going to mention — and he couldn't find a reason why someone would decide to break all logic just like that.

He came back to her side, almost not believing and not really wanting to believe what he was hearing. He could clearly see that tear in Nightmare's sleeve from where he stood, and his alarms blared as he found the indisputable proof.

"... _why_ , though?" he quietly asked. Nightmare was a loner and barely ever spoke with or even got close to people; there was no reason for anyone to just go on ahead and attack him. He didn't think someone would be _that_ rancorous and vindictive toward him... but he himself was bitter toward _someone_ as well, and he admitted it, so anything was possible. But not even he would go as far as attacking Error without provocation, so it still struck him as senseless.

Nim heaved a small sigh. _"I wish I knew. He was not even near people when it happened, but it should not have happened regardless."_

She wasn't hiding her inner anger; taking aside the fact that nobody had villainous tendencies anymore, she couldn't understand why someone would even _think_ of harming such an innocent being. It strikingly had never happened back in his early years of life, when all the equally undeserved and unjustified abuse was mostly verbal or consisted of false threats. Someone could be out to kill him for good, and aside from worrying and frightening her, it made her blood boil, and she wasn't planning on going easy on whoever was at fault unless they had an _extremely_ good reason to try and hurt someone out of the blue. Which she heavily doubted.

_"...and that is not even the worst of all."_

Ink almost looked at her like she was crazy, and she didn't blame him for that. He didn't want to know what could possibly be worse than attempted murder in a world where no one should have a mindset twisted enough for that.

_"According to Nightmare, it is entirely possible he could have stolen anywhere from one to three of the black apples. Only one is worrisome enough."_

Ink seemed about to say something in utter shock, but any words died out into a surprised stammer. In one way or another, he was dying inside; too many impossible occurrences happening all at once, and it seemed like all logic in that world was slowly breaking away at the will of some unknown human. "H-he did _what_?"

_"I still am not sure it did happen, but if Nightmare thinks it is a possibility then there must be a reason."_

His shoulders slumped, traits filled with heartfelt preoccupation. Just when he thought it would be yet another normal day... enjoy the morning while Error was still asleep, complain, prank someone, walk around, talk to people, enlarge the environment, prank someone else... Being shocked over the apparent fact that someone had used a weapon for evil was certainly not part of his routine and he'd never wanted it to be.

He was wordless for a moment, lightly shifting around as he thought of what to say. In a place such as that, any sort of aggression was a lot to take on, a paranormal event almost. "...what are we going to do about that?"

_"First, get a description of him. I doubt Nightmare saw much, but anything helps. I will need you to ask people who might have seen him once we have an idea of what he looks like. After that, whether or not someone has seen him, we will have to look for him. I will not risk waiting until he attacks again."_

Ink remained silent for a moment, thinking and wondering. It was really worrisome to say the least, and the pressure he'd felt before was nothing compared to the slowly creeping dread of knowing someone mysterious could suppose a great danger for _everyone_. Or perhaps not, perhaps he could be easily stopped, but he shouldn't let his guard down, and he wasn't going to jump into conclusions. "...got it. Is there someone I should warn right now?"

Both pondered; there was no way they could warn everyone of the plausible danger just like that. There were too many people scattered all over the place, and the only way was to slowly spread the word and let one another communicate the warning around. By then, however, something could have already happened.

_"Go to the village first. I have a feeling this person knows exactly who and what he is playing with. I need you back here after that."_

As Ink nodded and nervously walked off, more nervously than he would've wished, she briefly startled when Dream stirred beside her. He seemed not yet ready to wake up from a much deserved peaceful slumber, those he could rarely ever enjoy without cruel visions trying to further scar and break him, and Nim was in no rush to see them open their eyes.

She was still heavily considering whether or not to tell them just yet. She had to receive a full-fledged explanation of what happened last night before moving on to anything else, and she knew Dream well enough to know that he would freak out as soon as he found out his brother could have died not even that long ago. They were both sensitive and facing enough problems already, especially with the little incident just a few hours ago...

Perhaps it wasn't the right time. She didn't want to stress them out too much.

...it was indeed difficult to take proper care of something that was never meant to be sentient.

* * *

His eye barely parted open, and he squinted at the morning light he hadn't expected, closing it shut and blinking a few times to get his sight used to it.

It was morning already? How long had he been asleep for?

Nightmare shifted slightly and looked around. The sky still had that pinkish glow to it, and he assumed it was fairly early in the morning, especially given the amount of people already wandering around. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and something moved beside him.

Dream mumbled something quietly, still drowsing. Nightmare was almost jealous of how comfortable he looked; side leaning against his mother, back against the Tree, tucked comfortably onto himself. Nightmare almost wanted to go back to sleep, and he didn't stand up; he didn't want to wake him up, and he found himself gleefully surprised at the fact that he wasn't breathing heavily, or moving around, or whimpering in terror like he always was. He was completely calm, happy even, gently clutching his arm with a half-asleep smile on his face. It gave him an irreplaceable feeling of peace and comfort, and he smiled back even though the other wasn't aware.

_"Nightmare?"_

He turned his head to the sound of his mother's voice, and he barely remembered he'd fallen asleep next to her until then. That was one deep, peaceful sleep, for sure... He normally couldn't bring himself to be that calm, let alone when his brother was with him, because he always feared he would make his night terrors worse and simply could not cope with it. He seemed to have done the opposite, though... somehow.

He hummed quietly, stretching whilst trying not to bother his sibling. His arm did feel rather numb though, but he found himself smiling again when he shifted a little only for Dream to further hold on to his arm with a pouting whine, prompting him to just let him have his way.

Looking around some more, he was finally able to shoo the sleep out of him. "How- how long have I been sleeping for?"

A gentle hand caressed the top of his skull, and he wouldn't complain if his eyes wanted to close again. _"The whole night. No longer than usual."_

It felt like he'd been sleeping the whole day instead, and no wonder why... last night had not been exactly peaceful.

He rubbed his eyes again, wondering whether or not he should go back to sleep. It was that, or stand there and watch the people or talk to his mother; it wasn't like Dream was letting him go anywhere, but he wouldn't complain. If he was happy, then he would do anything to keep him happy, and apparently what was keeping him happy was his presence. Not like he really had anywhere else to go... he had his doubts about going back to that cliff ever again. Or anywhere.

_"You still remember last night, do you not?"_

After a small moment, he hummed affirmatively in response to his mother's gentle question. Not like he wanted to remember. The last thing he needed was more scarring memories clouding and tearing his mind apart, but it seemed like he was a magnet for bad luck. Not that it surprised him.

He softly leaned against his brother at the mere thought of it, looking for comfort. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't get it out of his head, and he still felt the distant pangs of fear, like that man was observing him and him only, and he knew he was not leaving his mother's side until it was more than proven that that savage would not come back.

_"Wait until your brother wakes up, alright? I need as much information as possible. We will solve this, yes?"_

Nightmare only nodded, unsure of what to think but willing to believe his mother, as Nim's arm pulled them both closer. Even though it was really tempting, Nightmare didn't fall back asleep and instead stayed motionlessly awake, pondering and reflecting...

* * *

Odd. Really odd.

He hadn't expected people to believe him straight away, but he felt guilty for eventually making them worry after insisting. Some people from Underswap, Underfell and Storyshift had been caught in the conversation too, fortunately, and offered to tell the rest of their kin and others they found in their way. Ink didn't know if it was a good idea to get the whole afterlife to panic over some random human whose identity and true intentions were completely unknown, and he was really conflicted about it all.

It had only been a few minutes since he'd wandered off, like he tended to do after he began feeling like he had too much to take care of, and he was still seriously thinking about the intentions of that guy.

Though morbid, it almost made sense to him that, if his first victim was supposed to be Nightmare, then the human must have been someone from the village. He did make sure people interrogated one another in search for the culprit, but they were all equally confused, and it was hard to tell if anyone was feigning it. It was too bad they didn't have a description of him yet.

There he was thinking the first to regain their broken mindsets would be Error... He had yet another freak to look out for, and he was genuinely afraid Error would see the human's attack as his cue to unleash his hidden insanity through the light commotion.

...he _was_ afraid of him, after all. He really didn't want him to do anything stupid, especially because it was likely that Blueberry had told him already, and he felt he would be better off checking on him and his antics rather than standing on a hill in the middle of nowhere.

Everything was supposed to be fine... He was almost more annoyed than he was afraid of what was happening.

He stood up. First check on Error, then go back with Nim and get an appropriate description of the loose maniac. A little more of a change in his schedule than he would've liked, but he couldn't forget that someone could die or, worse in that case, get seriously hurt.

Once he hopped down, he could have sworn he heard more footsteps rushing towards him, and he turned around fully expectant to see Blueberry or whoever else would be in such a hurry to reach him. Wouldn't it be nice if someone was about to tell him that they found a suspicious human wielding a knife?

He saw white and black and a glint of gold and he suddenly felt pain and collapsed onto the grass.

* * *

Nightmare startled out of his thoughts when a hand was pressed against his face and the responsible arm stretched without care for the surroundings, nearly pushing him back. He shook his head in confusion before realizing Dream had finally brought himself to wake up, blindly stretching and stirring before finally opening his eyes to the light of the day.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Nightmare mumbled, falsely gruffy, rubbing his head as he slowly came back to reality. Dream muttered something unintelligible as he shifted onto his back, and it wasn't clear if he was actually going to wake up. "Or not."

Not like Nightmare was complaining about anything. It was rare for Dream to actually be able to sleep peacefully, and it had been that way for centuries; no wonder he would be hesitant to slip out of his slumber given that the next and most others would only be full of distress again, and he would give him as much time as he needed.

It wasn't like he was looking forward to ruin his happiness by having to tell him that he was nearly killed and everyone could be in danger...

Nim watched their drowsy antics in silence and with delight, allowing Dream to enjoy his first peaceful sleep in... perhaps a year without complaints as well. Nightmare rested against her again, and his body language only told her he was growing more and more worried as opposed to slowly calming down. She was sure she would wait; first let Nightmare explain everything, then let Dream adjust at his own pace, then look for that guy... then everything else.

"Do we really have to tell him." he murmured, forlorn, staring off into the distance, littered with people, through half-lidded eyes. He knew what her answer would be even though she understood his motives, but at that point it didn't hurt to try. It certainly would hurt him less than it would hurt Dream to know that he could have lost his brother. Again.

 _"I am as conflicted as you are,"_ Nim softly reassured him. _"but this is not something we can hide. Unwanted things happen sometimes, when we expect them the least, and it is no one's fault. We have to understand them as best as we can and react accordingly... even if it means having to put people through distress. No one will be happy to know that someone is actually capable of bringing themselves to attack people; it is for their own good."_

She almost heard the skeleton sigh; it was so quiet. "...I thought no one had to go through that here."

He sounded so afflicted, and annoyed, and worried, and partially angry. It was always so difficult to know what he was thinking and what he was truly feeling... _"That_ was _how it was supposed to be... but we will not understand the motives of this person until we find him, so all we can do now is wait."_

Instead of receiving the answer from Nightmare she wasn't really expecting, it was Dream who spoke drowsily, something along the barely understandable lines of "what person?", and she glanced at him to see him tiredly sitting up.

She, too, saw Nightmare tense up. No, they truly were not supposed to go through all that confused worry, especially not so early on Nightmare's stay there, and the more time that passed, the less she was inclined to interrogating that madman before showing him what happened when someone messed with the wrong guardian.

Dream stretched, and it further seemed like sleeping had been the best thing ever for him, and he was so oblivious and Nightmare didn't know how he was even going to start. He couldn't picture himself telling him that someone dangerous was roaming free, then fully explaining both of them what happened... he didn't want to hurt him again.

After blinking the sleep away and immediately missing it, Dream looked around. "What are we talking about?"

Nightmare laughed softly at his obliviousness, but he knew he wouldn't be laughing afterwards. "...a lot of things, actually..."

He timidly looked at his mother for further guidance; he didn't want to tell him straight away, but he felt like more damage would be done if he kept stalling. He couldn't lie to him again...

He felt that heavy pressure again, and it was no lie that he would do literally anything so he wouldn't have to be the one to explain what was happening. His mother always told him he had to get through his fears... If only it were that easy.

But as he glanced at the guardian, he caught sight of something else behind her; Ink, he guessed by the color scheme of the slowly approaching figure and mostly the waving scarf. The oddly... _very_ slowly approaching figure, and he didn't remember Ink wearing anything red.

Dream stood up. "Oh, really? Did I miss anything?"

He was completely unaware of how difficult he was making telling him there was a potential murderer around, and yet Nim couldn't help but smile at him and his naivety. It was one of the few rare occasions he would wake up at his own pace and not screaming and thrashing; better to give him a few minutes.

 _"Not entirely. That is why we were waiting for you."_ Her tone changed, _"It is a long story, though... you may want to sit down."_

There was pure curiosity and hints of preoccupation on Dream's traits as he lightly tilted his head; a complete contrast to his brother's expression, clouded by immediate worry and shock as he got an actual look at who indeed was Ink, and he was most definitely _not_ alright.

Before Nim could tell how distraught he was, he sprinted to her side, eyes planted on the moribund skeleton still trying his best to get to them. "L-look...!"

His alarmed state took Nim by surprise and she genuinely thought she would finally meet the crazed human sneaking up behind them once she turned around, reason why she was heavily alert when she did so — only to immediately mellow as she instead saw Ink, hunched, limping, blood staining his side, and he had managed to get close enough for her to catch him in her arms as exhaustion caused him to collapse.

"Ink!"

Dream nearly tripped over himself as he ran up to them, barely even understanding just what on Earth was going on and why everyone was acting so weird and why Ink was _dying_ , kneeling next to his mother as she held the heavily bleeding skeleton. There was a long, horizontal cut starting from his midsection all the way to his back; it was not deep at all, barely having grazed a single rib, but it was _bad._

"I think-" Ink nearly choked. "I think I found the guy... h-heh..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never not love cliffhangers, sorry not sorry. uwu
> 
> So I just remembered I forgot to mention something about the inner workings of the afterlife.  
> As we all know, people who die will be forgotten - however, if you willingly kill someone, you will not forget them (only whoever was responsible for killing them will know exactly who they were, not anyone else, even if they're watching). If someone kills someone by accident, though, they will be forgotten too. It has to be consciously.
> 
> I AM NOT IMPLYING ANYTHING I SWEAR.
> 
> yet. ;3


	6. Guess Who

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Forgive me, I was only... thinking."
> 
> Thoroughly remembering would be a more correct word, but she still could not be sure even though it was not that much of a complicated puzzle to put together after Nightmare and Ink's sightings matched into an almost unmistakable entity no one but her should even recognize — at least she hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how come I update more often while I'm on vacation. lol

_"I would like to know how you got such a mild injury to nearly kill you."_

"I know, it's  _weird_."

It had been true luck Ink had mustered enough strength and brought himself to go back to the Tree instead of succumbing to the pain and loss of blood; even if he wasn't that worried about his life anymore after he'd been healed, he had brushed death, and way too closely for comfort. Again. And he was fully aware of it, but it seemed like he was completely skipping that fact, probably for his own good — it wasn't like he was looking forward to feel himself die again, but at least it hadn't been at the hands of Error. He was still expecting him to go berserk at some point, especially now that he knew people could.

He was sure the weapon he had been attacked with could not have been just any knife; as soon as it _lightly_ cut through him, scalding pain slowly began to build up until he nearly lost consciousness — and thank everything he didn't, — feeling like a million, scalding needles stabbing him over and over again, like fire, like venom and poison, like electricity. He couldn't recall any universe in which a human wielded such weapon, but it wasn't like his memory was reliable.

Whilst it didn't work on herself, Nim's magic could easily stop bleeding and restore energies, even though broken bones were out of her reach and that grazed, slightly cracked rib would have to find another cure; her proximity and Ink's resistance and will to walk all the way back really were the only reasons the artist was not dead and gone at that point, because no matter where he had stayed, people who had any healing magic were too far away and he was too badly wounded to reach out and much less wait for them to realize they were about to lose him.

Nim didn't allow him to stand back up afterwards, given that his balance seemed somewhat precarious and he was most definitely dazed, probably due to the amount of blood he had lost  _somehow_. No one really comprehended how something like that even happened; skeletons only bled when they were nearly dying, but what basically was a long cut across a rib would be nothing worrisome for them and shouldn't have even drawn blood at all, let alone supposed anything lethal. As he saw it, there were two options Ink could think of; either that guy had killed people there before and gained enough LOVE to end lives with a simple swing, or that weapon was just incredibly dangerous in itself.

He really wanted it to be the latter, even though none of the two were anything he would put up with.

However, Ink still seemed more worried about the fact that his clothing was stained in red and had a long tear 'ruining' it, according to him, and so did a rib, and he had mostly laughed about it against the others' expectations. Dream certainly didn't think it was funny, and the only reason he wasn't completely freaking out was because Nim was there with them.

It wasn't like they  _wanted_  Ink to panic or anything of the sort, but they at least expected him to acknowledge the fact that he had been attacked for no apparent reason as well, probably not with an ordinary weapon at that, and could have lost his life without anyone knowing had he not managed to get back there with some appreciated quick thinking like the serious problem it was. Not to mention it had probably been courtesy of the same person that tried to attack Nightmare earlier on; of what little Ink had managed to see of him, he had definitely recognized his shape as human. At least they knew Nightmare wasn't his only target, if they really were the same.

"Hey, on the bright side, we've got more ways to identify the crazy weirdo." Ink announced, tiredly but a little more cheerfully than anyone would've liked even though he already was relatively fine, and Dream had begun wondering if he was downplaying it to stop himself from actually panicking. He knew he would have had it happened to him, just not so blatantly.

 _"And on the brighter side, you did not die."_  Nim scorned back, earning a pensive look from the artist and immediately knowing he was definitely screaming inside and was only using a facade to hide his shock. He was nonchalant like that when he wanted to be, but she would let it go as long as he was safe and out of further harm's way.

Despite the initial and slowly diminishing shock, Dream was still more faced by the situation than anyone else, not that it was strange; he didn't know what had happened earlier yet, and as sensitive as he was it struck him way more to wake up to what seemed like a normal morning and see a dying Ink making his way toward them, and then the mention of that guy and whatnot, and he was more confused than he had ever been and he ached for answers.

"Could someone explain to me  _what_  is going on?" he worriedly urged, pleading eyes planted on his mother after making sure Ink was out of danger. He even doubted he would get an answer; he didn't see how anyone could comprehend the reason why Ink of all people was almost lethally attacked; not that anyone else being attacked would have been any less worrying. "Who  _is_  this guy?"

Nightmare shifted uncomfortably. He guessed it was time to just let it out... otherwise Dream could be next and he would have no idea how to react. He shuddered at the thought, and he knew he was just not letting him out of his sight.

"...some human is apparently having fun trying to kill people." he mumbled, and averted his gaze to avoid his brother's because he did _not_ want to see his imminent look of shock. "He... he tried to attack me last night." He could've sworn he saw Dream about to bolt and quickly added, "I-I'm fine though. Really."

But Dream still had no idea what was going on and didn't entirely believe Nightmare was fine and nobody blamed him. That was not how he was supposed to be introduced to the danger, and he seemed at the edge of a panic attack as his mind raced to understand what was anything but understandable for him. What would be strange for him would be to  _not_  have one after seeing one of his closest friends nearly die, realizing there was a dangerous being roaming around and switching targets, and knowing that his brother could have gone through the same Ink did and he would have had no idea.

Were people not supposed to be peaceful? Nearly killing someone did not seem exactly peaceful. _What was happening?_

He stayed silent. He didn't know what to say or do aside from darting his eyes across the grassy ground in dazed thought, and brotherly instincts brought Nightmare to stay closely by his side because it felt like he was about to burst into tears. The proximity let him hear his silent but quick breathing and see his body faintly shaking, and he couldn't bear seeing him like that. It was almost worse than seeing him thrash and scream in his own nightmares, because that was reality and not something he could just get away from for the rest of the day.

It seemed like the afterlife thought he wasn't worthy of a break... and the things Nightmare would give to make that change, or to at least swap places with him.

"...w-why?" Dream finally muttered, his voice so small and helpless and his brother felt an urge to hug him and never,  _ever_  let go. He looked so hurt and confused and worried and hapless and he didn't deserve to feel that way _and those things were not supposed to happen there._

"We're trying to figure that out..." was all Nightmare could muster as a response, his own voice equally as small and pitiful. He hated to see Dream so distraught, and he didn't want to admit it and much less say it out loud, but at that exact moment he wished that madman had taken the apples, eaten them and suffered like he had when he made the same mistake and  _died_  for being so foolish in a horrid way.

. . .

...no, no of course he didn't think  _that_...

...that was... really morbid... But the guy  _deserved_  it, right...?

That was quite the strange thought, and quite the strange yet familiar strain in his chest that wasn't anxiety and apprehension for once.  _Hatred_ , with all letters of the word... and the reason he even knew what that silent burst of emotions felt like was one he hated — and feared — even more so... because that feeling was the exact same one he always felt, every second of his twisted life, when his crazed mind took full control of him and forced him to loathe his own brother to the point of relishing to see him in pain...

He tensed.

...better think about something else. Change the subject. Quick.

"...s-so what did he look like? Just so we know it  _is_  the same person..." he quickly asked, hoping a little conversation in which he was relevant would get those thoughts out of his mind for the time being, and he couldn't hide his nervousness, but the general tension masked his inner conflicts. He hated that man, whoever he was, indeed, and it would definitely be better for everyone if he died... but he wasn't violent or cruel enough to wish those things upon other people. He would never want anyone to go through what he went through. That was just... not like him. Whoever he was.

If everything had really started over, he shouldn't even know what emotions as strong as those were really like...

"Right. Descriptions." Ink shifted, lightly wincing as he tried to find a more comfortable way to sit against the bark of the Tree and found his rib aching at the movement; he would never understand how Dream and Nightmare found it comfortable in any way, especially enough to soundly sleep against it like it was a pillow. "Okay, so..."

He hadn't seen that much, especially because he had totally been expecting someone else and the unknown traits caught him off-guard. He literally saw a flash, a tall figure rushing past him in the span of a second, and then everything became black as his eyes subconsciously clenched shut and he keeled over in pain. 

At least he still remembered what he looked like, what little he had seen of him. He soon had Nim's attention; Dream's too, even though he was still disoriented, leaning against his brother as he thought everything over.

"He was wearing white, that's for sure." he began, picturing it in his mind and keeping the image there as clearly as he could. He glanced at Nightmare for confirmation, and he nodded slightly; that was the most notable trait both had managed to clearly see. "With some black bits maybe? It kind of looked like Night's outfit."

Nightmare knew they were definitely talking about the same person after that; the fact that their clothing looked alike, in a way, had been one of his first thoughts as he observed his appearance as thoroughly as he could through the leaves.

"And maybe he had a long scarf, white too... I'm not too sure, but he definitely had some sort of cloth waving behind him."

Nightmare thought about it, trying to remember last night like the events were happening right in front of him; he hadn't paid attention to a small detail like that, so he couldn't confirm it, but Ink had seen him in broad daylight and he had seen him at night and from the top of a lush tree, so the other skeleton was definitely more reliable than he was.

The human's general appearance, thus far, still didn't ring any bells however, but Nim seemed more and more attentive to Ink's description of him.

"Black hair, definitely." Ink gave Nightmare another small glance and he nodded without hesitation, another notable trait. "Short. Maybe a little spiky."

Nim had been nodding at each new bit and piece of information, but she gradually stopped, musing, pondering... His description still brought nothing out of the others. She, by the other hand, had the lightest of ideas, but she couldn't be sure...

It did match, as far as she remembered, but that had been countless years ago and there had been no signs of him yet...

"Oh, and the knife," Ink added. "It was... it had a weird shape. Never seen one like that. And it was all golden, I don't think it even had a hilt of a different material, but it's not like I was focused enough."

That did ring a bell; more than one, actually, though only for the dryad, who went thoughtfully quiet as the others tried to think of someone they had ever seen that matched said description. Not much came to their minds, though. At first, perhaps, but as the description carried on they lost track of who they were supposed to identify.

"...I definitely have no idea who it is." Ink concluded with a shrug, and even if he was still mostly calm about it, it was clear it heavily bothered him not knowing who it was. "I would've blamed Mr. Oreo, but with that stature? Hah. Not to mention the hair..."

Nightmare blinked in confusion, and asked the same question his brother was probably about to ask because he saw him frown as well through the corner of his eye. "Who?"

"X-Tale's Chara, duh."

"He calls everyone in that universe something along the lines of oreos." Dream clarified with a sigh, unable to help a little smile at Ink's neverending childishness. He had vaguely thought of Chara too until the hair color came up, and he was even more confused at the lack of choices. "...what even _are_ oreos anyway?"

"Cookies." Ink grinned.

Dream was about to wonder what cookies had to do with anyone from the monochromatic universe before Nightmare, surprisingly, cut them off. "We're not supposed to be talking about cookies, we're supposed to be talking about the guy who's trying to kill us." he stressed, clearly afraid about them stalling, even though Ink didn't seem too faced yet. He had never been one to even voice his opinion, no matter how welcome he was, but it really was not the time to talk about irrelevant stuff when that man had proven he would attack and possibly kill whoever happened to be in his way and he could be stalking them for all he knew.

"I know, I know, but it's not like we know who he is yet." Ink tiredly leaned further against the Tree, thoughtfully looking up at the sky. He was not about to deny he was making it look like he couldn't care less about having shaken death's hand and the fact that someone out there was most definitely dangerous and they still couldn't identify him, but the mere thought of it made him feel sick and he lacked the words to voice his opinion about the whole ordeal. Not like it was anything Dream should hear.

Nightmare sighed, and deep down, he was as afraid as he had been when he hid for his life while that man looked intently for him, and he didn't know if he was the one shaking or Dream, still nearly limp against his side, was. Or both of them, which was just as plausible.

"...don't know either." Dream mused soon after, almost ashamed of himself for not being able to identify that person. He still didn't understand what was going on, and that wasn't helping. He blinked, letting his exasperated self take a calming breath in before sitting up. He really,  _really_  needed some encouragement, and he would take it from anyone. "But at least  _one_  person out there has to know. Right, mother?"

When his distraught eyes looked for the comfort of a reassuring smile, he instead found Nim deeply in thought, as though she had forgotten about everyone's existence just to have more space for everything fluttering around her mind to flourish. If there was something Dream and Nightmare weren't used to seeing on her, it was overflowing worry, but that was exactly what defined her expression.

"...mother?"

It was like she had snapped back to reality, and the brittle smile she wore seemed more forced than not. _"Ah, yes, we will find someone who has ever seen him eventually."_  She let go of a sigh, mostly because of how much further she was worrying Dream even though it was the absolute last of her intentions.  _"Forgive me, I was only... thinking."_

Thoroughly remembering would be a more correct word, but she still could not be sure even though it was not that much of a complicated puzzle to put together after Nightmare and Ink's sightings matched into an almost unmistakable entity no one but her should even recognize — at least she hoped so.

"What? Seen someone like that?" Ink queried, almost hopefully. He knew for sure someone was going to get bashed in the head by courtesy of his paintbrush whenever he caught sight of said unseen person; it was just too bad the first wouldn't be Error, even if there had been close calls.

_"...perhaps, but it is a much too distant memory to know for sure. It would be better to see how many people have seen someone like that, if any, and then rely on mere thoughts as a last resort."_

She saw Ink frowning lightly in disappointment as she turned to look at him while Dream and Nightmare stood up by her side. _"Ink, are you in any shape to travel?"_

"Yep."

Said skeleton didn't need much thinking before pushing himself to his feet, wavering a little but mostly staying upright without serious difficulty — definitely far more reliably upright than before, but his side still ached and he would have to make sure not to run around too much if he didn't want the air knocked out of him for being too... himself.

He would still need to get that blood cleaned up and the long tear patched up before he gave someone a heart attack, though; nothing he couldn't handle himself. He could just ask Life, the mostly beloved Toriel from Reapertale, to get that cracked rib fixed for him afterwards, and also ask her if she saw someone that matched the vague description in the meantime.

 _"Please, ask as many people as you can if they have ever seen this human."_  was Nim's heartfelt request, one he couldn't and wouldn't deny. _"We cannot lose time now."_

Ink gave her a thumbs up; at least it was clear he had completely forgotten about the pain in his side. "You can count on me." He brought a hand up to his chin, "But I might need someone to come with me... The chances of me forgetting what this guy looks like are, uh... really high."

He gave a guilty chuckle afterwards, and Nim couldn't help but roll her eyes — however she could.

"I-I'll go with you," Dream chimed in, certain about his choices, but a green hand in his way stopped him dead on his tracks and Nim gave him the same warning his brother was about to give him before his mother beat him to it.

_"No. I would rather... you stay here. We never know what could happen, and I am not taking any chances."_

Dream seemed about to protest; helping people no matter what was just his nature, but he acknowledged the gravity of the situation and backed off before his instincts brought him to try and reason against his mother's understandable motives to keep him there. Let him wander around with certain irresponsible, reckless artist while a murderous human who could apparently end any life with a mere cut was roaming free? Not on her watch he wouldn't. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ink, but she just was not about to leave Dream out of her sight because she _knew_ what he was like. No matter who he was with.

The guardian's attention went back to Ink,  _"At least take someone who can fight back with you. Please, do be careful..."_

"Don't worry, I learnt my lesson," Ink suppressed half a smile; he doubted he would be so carefree from then on, at least until the menace was definitely taken care of. A rough change, but he would take it willingly. He wasn't planning on losing anyone ever again, especially not while he could do something. As long as he wasn't as reckless about it. "I'll be back. Hopefully."

That wink was supposed to be taken lightly, but Dream couldn't stop the creeping worry from taking over him and he really wanted to rush by his side and make sure he was okay. He already nearly lost two people close to him... he couldn't bear the thought of knowing they could disappear one day if they didn't react accordingly and fast enough.

Ink sprinted off before Dream could tell him anything, and he really did _not_ want to but he felt like he wouldn't see him again if luck was not by their side. He hated those pessimistic thoughts. He really, truly did, but he could not get rid of them, and they just kept getting worse and worse every day...

The soft hand gently grasping his arm seemed to allay them, though. "He'll be fine." Nightmare reassured him, a small smile that, despite shy, was truthful, and he smiled back. "And we'll be fine too as long as we stay here..."

There was a microscopical nod in response; it was clear Dream couldn't hide his fear and worry. "...I'm glad you're okay."

That took Nightmare a little by surprise, and his brother's intonation and the look of utter care and happiness to see him alive he gave him hit too close to home.

"...yeah, I'm... glad too."

...why'd he hesitate to say that?

Those thoughts were still fresh in his mind... It wasn't like he would deny he would have been better off if he didn't have to witness all the sudden preoccupation contaminating the air and his brother suffering deep down... but then again, had he not lived to tell the tale, no one would yet know of the existence of that man and they could have been dead for all he knew.

...he still was not content... but he would hang on.

For the sake of his brother, even if he could forget he even existed.

Dream stood still in thought for a moment before looking back at the guardian, watching over Ink until he was out of sight just in case he was ambushed. He had been attacked in broad daylight with many onlookers around; anything could happen, and she had to wonder just where he had been to be attacked while everyone was up and going and not be noticed until he got there.

* * *

"Alright. White clothing, possible scarf, black hair, golden knife. Where do we start?"

Fully healed, Ink had taken Reapertale's Sans as his companion — or protector, better said, — given that he wasn't one people would want to mess with, and he had somewhat insisted in accompanying him, claiming he was bored beyond comprehension and it was about time for something interesting to happen. If the psychopathic human came back, then they would have more chances to easily kill him and get the problem done and over with and completely forget about it. Simple.

What wasn't as simple was finding him.

"why should i know?" Death rolled his eyes. "you are the one leading this thing. if you don't know where to start then we've reached a  _deadlock_."

"Not my fault there are like thousands of people here-" Ink stopped himself with small intake of breath, only for him to scowl at the hooded skeleton in realization of what was the most terrible pun he had heard all day. All  _week_  at least, and that was saying a lot considering he spent large amounts of time around Sanses or others who took the punny role and at least made acceptable usage of it.

There was half a smirk plastered on the grim reaper's face. "took you long enough."

"I'm about to let you go back to being bored and handle this alone."

"not like this is any better."

"Okay,  _okay,_  just give me choices while I look for people."

Not like Death had been caught in the mood for thinking back and forth between people who could have seen a murderous human, and it became tedious considering the sheer amount of people, but he still made a small attempt at it while Ink surveyed the area. There were people everywhere, but he considered it easier to think wisely first and ask people who knew more about the multiverse or had met a lot of people as long as they were close by instead of destroying their own voices by asking and explaining everything to countless monsters and humans and whatever living being they found on their way over and over again.

"uh, wasn't there this one grey kid with hollow eyes..."

Ink turned to look at him with a small frown. "Who? Core?"

"if we're talking about the one with the omega timeline, then yes."

Of course; Core could easily know something, especially given just how many people they had met. And unlike Ink, they never forgot any face they came across and knew exactly who had ever been through their timeline.

Their case there had been a special one, truly. They, along with other victims of the CORE, had actually always been able to travel back and forth between the multiverse and the afterlife at will; and they still could, even though, as the monochromatic child had explained once, there was nothing anymore. It was all a dark void, with no light, or sound, a devastating sight. Ink didn't really want to think about it... It wasn't like knowing everything was just gone was a pleasant feeling, and even though he had everyone around him, they still didn't exist, and they would exist even less so if that human wasn't identified and stopped.

The only reason Core never told anyone of the existence of the afterlife was because they had completely forgotten about it; they had only been there once, when it was almost empty and just so different, and after being able to wander from universe to universe and vowing to take care of the Omega Timeline, they never stepped foot on it again. It had been only when they thought about all the people who had died, back when they isolated themselves in their own little empty universe while Nightmare continued his merciless reign of terror, that they teleported back to the afterlife, thus remembering how to get there in the first place; coincidentally, the same way people used to access the Omega Timeline: by thinking about it. Pure coincidence, but at least they were back amongst civilization.

"Yes, Core, good idea. But I'm gonna have to give you multiverse lessons, you know."

"eh, it's not like i ever bothered to know the universes from a to z or am personally excited to meet everyone in them. if it's not doing my job, then it's just wandering around, and since the former is no longer a thing then i just watch people walk by and that's about it."

"...charming." Ink deadpanned. "Anyway, let's go. Where  _are_  they, though...?"

"we were talking to them before you came, so they shouldn't be that far off."

Ink had to stop for a moment and give him an almost comical look of skepticism only he could give in full splendor. "...you literally just talked to them, and you don't know their name."

Death shrugged. "people normally assume we all know each other, especially if we were well known, so names are not usually given. it's not like my memory is anything outstanding."

The artist scoffed, "Still better than mine. Come on, we don't have much time, lead the way."

"aye aye, captain."

* * *

"Mother?"

Nim looked at Dream, awaiting his question. He and his brother had been quiet for a while; it wasn't strange, though, as their relationship was still strained... She had been hoping to hear them say anything at all, but that had not yet happened.

"Can we... at least go to the village?"

She was quick to understand his motives; Nightmare would gladly stay in one place he was more or less comfortable in and not move from there unless he felt like it, but Dream just  _couldn't_  hold still, and he had in fact been walking around in circles since Ink left. Even if there was nothing to do, he _needed_ to move around and talk to people, and Nim wasn't about to confine them to stay with her and not go anywhere until that madman was somehow caught, but she still had her doubts.

She couldn't see what was going on in the village from there, and knowing that the Tree could be or had been in danger, there was no way she was leaving with them. It was one or the other, and she didn't want to leave any of them unprotected... The village offered many places to hide, indeed, and most people there knew how to fight, but she felt like that would only endanger everyone in case the town was actually attacked.

...but, perhaps she could use the help of an old friend. It would be really helpful, now that she carefully thought about it. The type of menace they were facing certainly required it.

_"...very well, but under one condition. Tell someone to bring Lanny here; you will be more protected that way, and she too will know the problem we are facing."_

Dream beamed at the permission given and the company of the devious elf, and it was nice to see that spark grow back and hide his apprehension. "Will do," he promised, giving one of those smiles only he knew how to manage.

He stopped as passed by his brother, "Are you coming?"

As satisfying as it was to see Dream so happy after moping around, Nightmare was still heavily reluctant to move from there. He felt protected when he was with his mother and would like Dream to stay as well, but if that was his choice, he was no one to take it away. Besides... a question sparkled in his mind.

"But... who's Lanny, anyway?"

"The guardian of the Tree of Magic. You haven't met her yet, have you? Don't worry, she's as powerful as mother, nothing will happen if she's around."

Nightmare couldn't say he wasn't intrigued. He had never seen the other guardians, and he had completely skip over the fact that they were there as well. It would certainly be interesting to meet them, even if it meant leaving what he thought was complete safety...

He could always return later. He... really needed the company of his brother. Those thoughts... they were trying to take him away, and it just kept getting harder to stay away from Dream.

"...alright."

It was a very hesitant answer, but Dream sparked even more so, mostly because it always was extremely tricky to get his brother to go to the village with him. Or anywhere that wasn't that cliff, really.

He just had to let go of worry sometimes; Ink would know who to go with and how to react to danger now that he knew what they were up against, and both their mother and Lanny knew how to fend for themselves and others.

It was going to be fine.

Completely fine.

...he really hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As obscure as the Dreamtale guardians are, they all will certainly be in this story, but I'm gonna have to make up their names (except for Nim). Whenever the real ones are given, I'll just go back and change them. At least I finally know what they look like. :'D
> 
> ...I have my ways. ;)


	7. Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> …he really was just a book himself. Full of secrets that would only be unveiled when opened.
> 
> …it felt… so much better than fretting. He felt… free. It had not been easy to finally release his inner sorrow for others to know, and trying to tell Dream what he really was going through had consisted of the most psychologically painful minutes he had ever experienced, but that was only for a moment. It was the fear of rejection, the fear of failing, the fear of having disappointed someone he had to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally got this out lmao. there have been some pretty rough thunderstorms here and my internet connection kept dying, so. i can't even proofread this because there's yet another storm coming and this had to be rushed.  
> ugh. >.<
> 
> i feel like the pacing has been a little slow, so here, have a longer chapter. i wanted some more plot thrown in here, but that'd make this chapter a giant wall of text and i don't like those. don't worry, the drama is beginning~

_"...hold on, from the beginning. A_ killer _on the loose?"_

Finding Core again had been a little more difficult than any of the two skeletons would have thought, but it seemed like making them fully believe someone had gotten hold of murderous thoughts was even harder. Not like the skeletal duo could really blame them for it, as again, any sort of physical attack was as bizarre as a paranormal event and some people were bound to seriously doubt to the point of just refusing to believe it. Ink knew they would come across someone like that eventually; it wasn't their fault, but he was not looking forward to it.

Core was still clearly worried, though, even if they were heavily surprised and bewildered. They weren't taking it lightly despite the fact that they lacked solid proof, and Ink wondered if he shouldn't have patched up that tear in his shirt after all in order to show people what certain someone out there was capable of.

"Yes, human, and apparently not someone lots of people have ever even seen." Ink clarified, feeling himself grow more and more wary and nervous despite having tried to take it lightly for his own wellbeing. It almost felt like he was being watched; he had been taken by surprise once, and it wasn't far-fetched to think it would happen again. At least Death was keeping an eye on things while he did the talking. "First tried to attack Nightmare, then _possibly_ stole some of those black apples, then nearly kills me. And I don't really wanna wait around and see who he tries to murder next, so we really need your help."

 _If_ they could give it, of course, but deep down Ink really wanted that whole mess done and over with before something truly lamentable happened, and was waiting for the miraculous person who knew exactly who that man was and how to stop him and give them a bear hug because they would deserve it.

But even so, he knew he should take it lightly with Core; they had actually only found their way back there not too long prior to Nightmare's arrival, perhaps a few months ago even though no one really kept track of time, and having had to watch people lose all hope and their minds and die or kill themselves, to witness the ultimate downfall of the multiverse as a whole, to be forced to stay in complete isolation for so long... they hadn't come back as the most stable in the bunch.

They were getting better though, and at a surprisingly fast pace, but Ink would consider his choice of words for the time being as to not make them freak out too much. Dream was already a good example of how certain people could react to the news if caught by surprise, and he needed everyone watching their backs, not panicking and fleeing like the unstoppable end of the world was nearing.

It took Core a moment to answer, trying to assimilate what was happening with little success. It just seemed a little too crazy; they were not going to start jumping into conclusions, but they were not sure if to believe everything verbatim yet. _"Oh, al-alright, um... what did he look like?"_

Core could only let out a stammer and speak quietly. They had learnt to always expect the unexpected no matter what, but even that was way too unexpected for them and they really had thought it was another one of Ink's pranks until they noted that so far unused tone and stance. Unfortunately for them, they could tell when he was being serious and when he was not, even though he had rarely ever been serious there. Not like there was any reason to be. Besides, it wasn't like he could have ever made Death of all people agree to assist him in his childish shenanigans, anyway, so his presence alone was enough to put Core on the alert.

It was just too bad they lost their omnipresence there, and thus couldn't know who was causing mischief as easily as they could normally have. Many things changed there, especially little quirks that were heavily important to certain people and made them unique in one way or another, and up to that day many people with some scientific role were still trying to figure out why they were gone even though Core thought there was no point in trying to explain the functioning of a place as unbelievable as the afterlife. They personally thought it was meant to teach people something, or let them know they could still be themselves without powers they thought were special to them.

Not like Core really _missed_ it considering everything they had to see, but it felt strange, and with the potential threat, omnipresence sure would be helpful.

"Well, he was, uh..." Ink trailed off and paused, his gaze lost as he tried to find a mental image that was completely blurred out, and he mentally smacked himself for forgetting that of all things. He had to pull a sheepish smile as he glanced at Death, "What'd he look like again?"

The taller skeleton couldn't help but softly facepalm; he had seen it coming, anyway, but he had to wonder why the most forgetful skeleton– no, the most forgetful _living being_ in the whole multiverse had to be the one chosen to lead an investigation that could use no more time than was necessary. "can't you just make notes?"

A small shrug. "Too long... Kinda lazy..."

Death was more than tempted to grant him a real smack to the back of the skull, but he acknowledged the seriousness of the situation enough not to let himself be distracted with trivial annoyances. Despite what most people would think, he didn't precisely want everyone to disappear forever; they'd had enough.

"dressed in white and maybe black with some long cloth resembling a scarf, short, black hair, golden knife." he tiredly recited, already having assimilated he would have to repeat the exact same thing like a parrot waiting for a reward until the guy was found, and for the wellbeing of his voice and patience he hoped Core knew _something_ , anything at all. And if they didn't, then he at least hoped the man's traits would be forever engraved in Ink's mind after the millionth description. He _would_ make sure he was paying attention.

The monochromatic child brought a hand to their chin as they slowly paced in thought, muttering the traits to themselves. They had seen many people throughout the years, however no one they could think of seemed to match that exact description accurately enough, not even people they had come across during their stance there.

No Frisk or Chara they knew had short, black hair, so they were out of the way for the time being, and not many people they remembered or had seen wore scarves either. Not like there were many more humans around that were versions of those two, which meant the village of Dreamtale would be their point of interest since it was full of unique humans. Perhaps someone from Overtale and variants could be added to the list, too, or people from some sort of humanized universe. At least that person seemed to be someone clearly distinguishable from others, which made it relatively easier to find him – they just had to know where to look.

But they still couldn’t give names. Perhaps someone looked alike, but they couldn’t be _sure_.

“reckon something?” they heard Death ask quietly, and they just knew he was actually really worried about what was happening just by listening to that tone. They cupped their cheek as they pondered, fingers tapping against it as they kept discarding people; no one came to their mind. _"I cannot seem to remember anyone like that... You said he was human?"_

Both skeletons nodded in accidental synchrony, only to lose what little hope they had when Core lightly shook their head. _"Don't know of any timeline where a non-standard human looks like that... Honestly, with that description, X-Tale is the only thing that comes to my mind, but even that seems unlikely."_

Ink huffed a chuckle under his breath; so he wasn't the only one who'd thought of them. "Of course."

_"Perhaps you should try to ask them. I know no one there looks precisely like that, but it doesn't hurt to ask. The color scheme matches, so…"_

"Doesn't hurt _you_." Ink rolled his eyes with a crooked, knowing smile. "I bet the first thing they'll do is throw something at me for _existing_ as per usual."

Death snorted and grinned, "alright then, let's go. what’s the damage?"

Ink pouted at him. "Thanks for caring about the wellbeing of my skull."

"hey, you're the one making this difficult. you have this stuff coming."

"I am not making this difficult I am just short on memory."

"then i don't think a good whack on the coconut will be any problem."

For the time being, Ink refused to be mocked by a grim reaper, and he quickly switched to Core in order to change the subject as soon as possible. He was going to be humiliated enough, anyway. He kept telling himself it was for the greater good… but that most definitely did not mean he was content with it. "So you have any idea where they are?"

Core looked to their right, _"Not too long ago I saw their Papyrus and Undyne walk over that way. I can only assume the others are there, wherever it is, too, but if not..."_ They couldn't help but sigh; sometimes, they really missed being able to see everything. _"Then that's out of my reach."_

At first glance, one would think Core was merely staring at the horizon, at nothing at all, but Ink knew _exactly_ what lied in that direction, where there was seemingly nothing of value, nothing that would inspire people to head to, and his eyes narrowed. "Hmph, bet they're hogging my personal space as always."

Just another one of the annoyances he had to deal with, aside from certain glitch.

Once, while walking around out of curiosity and seeing just how extensive that place was, Ink had found out his little cave and the paper tree Error destroyed for no reason at all had made their way in there as well; how long ago, he had no idea, but from that moment on he knew that place, though almost in the middle of nowhere, would become his own little space, away from the masses. And it had been for quite some time, enough for him to give it a little life and make random rock formations around and even a rainbow waterfall dubbed the Skittle Waterfall by those who walked past. He fully agreed with the choice of name.

But in order not to get lost, he had to leave a trail behind him leading there, just like the one he made that led to the canyon so Nightmare would know his way to and back, and that brought curious people to follow it. A few people here and there he allowed, as long as it wasn’t Error – he wouldn’t even let anyone that accompanied him in, either, – but his personal place officially stopped being his personal place when Cross found it, decided he liked it, and spread the word to the rest of his universe, and from then on they kept coming back and eventually made themselves at home.

Ink even had to make a locked door to prevent them and others from prying around the cave because they were getting too comfortable and that place in particular was just too sentimental for him to let anyone start snooping around, especially if those happened to be people who liked to make fun of him the most. He had not yet let anyone in, not even Dream, even though he knew he would be one of, if not the only exception.

It wouldn't have been too much of a problem for him had Undyne and Chara not become so protective of that place and had the others not let them have their way, and he was often the one kicked out instead of them when he stomped all the way over there with the sole purpose of making them leave. He had long ago given up, but he still tried every once in a while. Chara found a liking in throwing random objects at him whenever he showed up, and it had become some sort of a running gag between them to bet how long it would take him to leave when he tried to retrieve the space that, according to him, should belong to him _only_. It was one of the reasons he kept going with the oreo nicknames; he knew they hated them.

"Fine, we'll go there," Ink had to sigh, even though at that point it was noticeable he was already being overdramatic on purpose. He had a feeling they had a long way to go, and said way would be full of oblivious people who probably would not take him seriously. "Any other possible culprits?"

The monochromatic child lightly shook their head again. _"I’m thinking humanized versions of some universes, but I cannot specify anything. We are countless, after all. I’ll tell people."_

"Countless, yeah, reminds me of how hard it's gonna be to warn everyone... For now, do that, okay? Lightly if you can."

Core gave a tilt of their head. _"Lightly?"_

"I mean, as lightly as you can tell someone they could be murdered any moment now. We don't want anyone interrogating people aggressively or running around in circles, you know."

* * *

Nightmare had expected many things. The mere thought of the guardians and their roles and powers had always led him to think they would all be beings that imposed respect, gentle creatures who should have no foes to worry about, responsible and caring, understanding of people's problems and serious about their duties. His mother, at least, brought a good example of all those qualities together in harmony.

Lanny was everything Nim was not, and to say Nightmare was surprised was an understatement.

For one, she was small. Small to the point of being nearly as short as he and his brother were, which was saying a _lot_ , and she had no mystic traits whatsoever, only adopted the form of a little elf that inspired innocence. In plain sight, she really just looked like a harmless kid and not like someone who had incredible powers and was meant to protect the qualities of the multiverse, and certainly did not act like she was millenniums old; she was childish, loud and flamboyant, reminding him more of Ink or Blueberry being goofballs instead of reminding him of his mother.

She was still charming, of course, and seemed heavily liked by everyone around, even though she was pretty loud when it came to voicing her thoughts. She certainly got along well with Dream, but kept getting a little too close to Nightmare's personal bubble, prattling about how adorable he was and about how much she wanted to meet him and, a little insensitively, about how harmless he looked despite certain past events, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything about it and shyly took all the compliments.

Coincidentally, it was the same kind of reaction he got when he was introduced to the Papyri made out of the same darkness that had consumed his mind. He was glad they at least were living happily, despite what he put them through. Happily was even an understatement; they were _so_ cheerful, always goofing around, and more than a few of them loved to make people laugh with their shenanigans. He didn't blame them for seeing him as harmless after having practically condemned the world as a walking mass of tar, but he didn't precisely see himself as innocent.

Eventually, though, the amount of people around him became rather overwhelming. He hadn’t thought of that when he agreed to go to the village with Dream; Lanny’s mention just spiked his curiosity and rendered him oblivious to the monster and human concentration in the village. People were still working together to enlarge the space, flashes of magic here and there, friends playfully fighting to carry this and that, groups planning how and where to place new things, people opining about the additions and upcoming ideas...

The village was still way more crowded than usual and it made him feel... attacked.

He wanted to believe no one was there to harm him, and no one really seemed to pay attention to him whatsoever except for the guardian and the smaller monsters around them, but his personal space felt assaulted by the sheer number of living beings. He couldn't help it; he was simply not comfortable, and convinced Dream to let him have some time alone in the cave.

And there he had stayed. He didn’t know for how long, but it felt like it had been a while.

As he sat alone, idle, pondering, he’d wondered whether or not to ask Ink to make them some sort of door on the entrance, like he did with his; the sound of voices and magic still felt like everyone was around him, if only a little quieter.

But for the time being, he was content with simply sitting down, his eyes half-lidded and devoid of any type of visible emotion… reading his own journal.

He didn’t know why he was even looking at it. His original plan was to just stay there until later on, maybe sleeping, maybe talking to himself, maybe thinking, maybe looking at all the decorations he made ages ago, maybe receiving the visit from his brother he was still fully expecting. The moment he glanced at the old book was the moment he realized he couldn’t get this eyes off it, not until they were allowed to explore every page, and he finally gave up to what some part of him he didn’t understand wanted.

It was strange. It felt like it wasn’t even reality he was interacting with. He’d felt weird as soon as he opened the book, revealing yellowing pages where his probably five year old self had once been eager to write in. It was like a portal to a whole other world, and he didn’t know what to make of it. He wasn’t happy reading it. He wasn’t sad, or angry. He was just… confused.

It was actually his third time reading it through, after looking around random pages in boredom, in puzzlement. Not even he knew what he was feeling, but he almost recognized that emptiness in his chest and he didn’t like it, yet he couldn’t pry his eyes or his hands off the book, like it had trapped him in its journey through the past.

Some things were very blurry in his mind, but he actually remembered writing those entries. He wouldn’t be sure of what exactly had been going through his mind when he wrote every page, every individual word, but he remembered when and how, and some of them why.

He remembered how confused he had been while writing the very first page. He woke up one morning and found the book resting on his lap, and the day after their birthday at that. He never believed anyone could have bothered to give him an empty book all for himself even though he basically used to have the library under his control, but Dream seemed to know nothing about it. Up to that day, he still didn’t know who gave it to him and why, and it remained a somewhat enticing mystery. Not like he had the guts to ask people, anyway.

He remembered everything had already gone south by the time he received it, and it was one of the very few things that kept him busy and almost entertained until disaster struck. Dream had really wanted him to write his thoughts on it, and he knew that was the reason why he tried to write something cheerfully even though he rarely felt like doing so.

He remembered how he, eventually, couldn’t even pretend in his handwriting, and his real view on a treacherous world became visible in what he wrote. He could have sworn he looked up to that journal to keep himself safe, viewed it as an escape route for his thoughts; he told it the things he never told Dream, or anyone, trying to free himself from the unbearable fear that consumed him every day, but it was to no avail.

He remembered… he gave it his last smile. Back then, trying to be like his brother had been a truthful goal, and he was sure he could have done it…

He laughed under his breath. He was an idiot back then.

His hand slowly slid across the last page he ever wrote on, collecting some of the dust that had been taking over the journal over the course of years. He could almost see himself writing each and every of those letters, see how much his arm had shaken, how much he’d wanted to bawl but kept it in for the sake of making things better.

Or for the sake of throwing everything down the drain.

That book could be as full of lies, bad memories and misery as it wanted, anyway; it would always be something sentimental for Nightmare, even though he didn’t even know in which way. He just knew there was something about it he valued. It was his mind put into words, his need to lie to stop everything from worsening, the self he was making himself become once again. It was his devastated heart.

…Dream still hadn’t seen it, he didn’t think. He was sure he would never snoop around his stuff without asking or telling him. He already knew all there was to know about their past life, but… a peek at his real thoughts back then would perhaps open more windows. Even though something in his mind told him otherwise, he wanted to be helped. And to be helped, he had to be understood, but understanding him was the difficult part. They needed something to work with, and his past mindsets written on paper would be a good start.

He had to spend more time with Dream before he did something stupid. He still couldn’t stop thinking about why exactly he ever even thought of… killing himself. Nobody was actually against him, not that he knew; it was all in his mind, but it still hurt, it still made him feel like a waste of space, and he didn’t like it, and he couldn’t get over it. He had been avoiding Dream for that and other reasons for too long.

…he wasn’t comfortable, but he couldn’t bring himself to die. He still had to right one of his many wrongs: he had to make his brother happy. Truly happy. And even if he would cease existing, he would never want to disappear without seeing one of those real smiles that pushed his own negativity away.

He just didn’t know how-

And of course, Dream came looking for him soon after, just as he once again resumed reading all the pages over. He came in slowly as to not startle him, but Nightmare had already seen him through the corner of his eye.

Even though he wanted him there…

…he suddenly wanted him to leave and have some more time to think it through. But he, of course, was not going to shoo him away, and he knew that if he missed the chance to tell him what was wrong with him, then he would keep refusing over and over again. He might say tomorrow, then the day after, then the day after that, and so on, and he would just plunge himself into a loophole. He knew himself. It was now or never, and it would be best to get that weight off his shoulders before the situation with the hostile human got any worse.

“Hey,” Dream softly called, fully aware he had gotten his brother’s attention as he had caught glimpse of his eyes briefly flickering in his direction as soon as he set foot on the cave. Nightmare was always very aware of his surroundings. Too aware, maybe, and sometimes it scared Dream. It was obvious he was constantly anxious, and he had an idea why, but he needed more depth.

“…hey,” Nightmare voiced back, not looking up or away from the scribbles he made once. He sounded a little more forlorn than he would have liked, and he was afraid he would just make himself even more nervous by accidentally acting distant. He couldn’t help it; his mind was completely focused on that book, like it contained unimaginable treasures. Nightmare only saw someone that didn’t exist anymore, briefly, and pain, but he still refused to look away. It was a magnet he didn’t understand the functioning of.

It was the little push he needed.

That book told him why lying was bad.

He heard Dream slowly walking around, looking at the souvenirs they made themselves for themselves. It felt like an eternity ago. “I was just wondering what you were up to. You’ve been in here for a while.”

“O-Oh, have… have I?”

He looked off the paper to have a peak at the entrance to the cave. It was darker outside, definitely. Not anywhere near nighttime, though, perhaps late midafternoon. He just realized the voices outside also sounded quieter or more dispersed, and he figured it was late enough for people to have gone home or wandered off somewhere else.

Time fled fast.

He rested his hand on his cheek as he brought his attention back to the book, not exactly focusing on it anymore though, listening to the soft sound of papers being displaced as Dream glanced around millenary drawings. “Not like we’re urging you out or anything. Just wanted to check. Lanny’s been wondering where you were and why you left so suddenly.”

“Yeah, sorry about that…” Nightmare nearly mumbled. He couldn’t keep his tone steady, and he wondered just how on Earth he was supposed to tell Dream he might or might not want to die with that attitude. Perhaps that was the reason why he quieted down, and not because he was so enticed on the diary – perhaps his mind was actually screaming _no_ , but at the same time begging him to get it over with. “You know I don’t like crowds.”

Dream was watching the mobile when he uttered a small laugh. “I do, but Lanny doesn’t want to accept it apparently. You know… you’d be good friends. She’s normally not this loud and childish. I’m sure you will be.”

Nightmare pulled a timid smile even though the other couldn’t see it. He seemed to have gotten over the shock of a potential murderer… and it made him feel extremely guilty to have to worry him all over again, but he knew he had to. If some part of him wanted him gone, then he at least had to make amends with his brother, hard as it might be.

“…I wanted to talk to you…”

He almost made himself shut up, and his voice went even quieter for a second before he regained that feeble strength of will.

 _It was for the best._ He couldn’t lie again.

Dream gently prodded the mobile before turning his attention back to him. Nightmare adored the sound of the thin metal pieces harmonically clinking together. He always had. It reminded him of… better times. Times where he could be someone else, where he could be carefree, where he could just enjoy a normal, happy life with his sibling without anyone there to stand in his way and ruin everything.

“Mh, what is it?”

Dream wouldn’t say he wasn’t surprised. He knew how reluctant Nightmare was to start an actual conversation between them, so he was as attentive as he could be as he waited for the other to answer… and he almost had a bad feeling about it, reluctantly. A quieter voice often meant Nightmare was distraught.

Dream just realized he was looking at his journal. He remembered when he wouldn’t even _approach_ it, and he got an even worse feeling.

“I… well, um…”

Nightmare didn’t know how to put it into words. There was no way to lighten the impact: what he wanted to tell his brother, who was already traumatized and had gone through horrors barbaric enough for him to contemplate suicide himself, was that he was depressed and wanted everyone to forget he ever had a place in that world, with the only reason being his mind and broken heart’s desires and not anything that was currently happening. There were no more words to it.

It felt so selfish, and he knew.

Nightmare shifted, taking a silent deep breath, and Dream sat next to him after sensing his inner worry to tell him something that was undoubtedly important. “What? …is it bad?”

“Well… more or less…” That was probably the biggest lie he had ever told anyone.

Dream gave him a heartfelt look of concern, slightly lowering himself to meet his brother’s gaze that only seemed planted, not even on the book anymore, but on the ground. “You know you can tell me anything. It doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll understand.” Nightmare glanced at him. “Just… please, don’t keep secrets. If anything ever bothers you, I want to know. I need to know. Please.”

He felt even worse. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt even worse. But at the same time, that just brought him to go right ahead and let it out; he would make it _even_ worse for himself if he just kept stalling and thinking it through. Say it. _Say it._

“…okay, just… Don’t freak out too much?” He winced, and the look Dream gave him didn’t help. Of _course_ he would freak out, he had to see it coming and brace for it. When he didn’t get an answer, he took another breath and kept going, “S-so… the night when I got attacked… be-before that, I… well, I was just sitting by the cliff, as usual, and I…”

He couldn’t help but go silent, and he really appreciated that Dream was not urging him on and was letting him take his time, but it was obvious his concern was growing. He had to say it _lightly_ , just not too lightly… he knew he could…

“I… well… I was thinking and I… got… _thoughts_ …”

He made a mental note to smack himself in the head hard for being so stupidly redundant, and he winced again at his own inefficiency at telling the truth, like he was some sort of lying machine, like he had forgotten how to be honest… but Dream did not seem confused when he glanced at him, and his expression made that tingling in his chest return with more might than ever before.

…he knew. He was sure he knew.

“…thoughts.” Dream parroted, almost with no tone, and Nightmare was even surer he already knew simply judging by his motionless reaction. He opened his mouth to say something, but found out he couldn’t really articulate anything and simply nodded twice before looking away. The book wasn’t even anything he could care about anymore; it had served its purpose.

Dream blinked, slowly, and it seemed like he was bracing himself. He knew Nightmare was heavily upset about something when he became reluctant to speak and began stuttering aside from using a quieter tone than usual, and he didn’t like the looming foreboding creeping up on them. “…about…?”

He clearly saw his brother tense up, and he tensed as well. Nightmare almost squeaked before nearly whispering, “About…”

And he cut himself off again, and he realized he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t possibly be so selfish. Dream and many other people there had gone through things no one deserved, and for no good reason. They had been pushed to their limits, their minds broken almost beyond repair for simply existing, and not even being verbally abused for years equaled to anything the people around him had to undergo.

He was so selfish. He was _so_ selfish and he felt like scum for thinking of ending his life just because he _thought_ people didn’t like him and he wasn’t needed when the skeleton beside him attempted to end his because he couldn’t take any more pain and misery. He had no reason to feel that way. He had no _right_ to feel that way–

“H-hey, are you okay?”

He hadn’t realized his eyes were brimming until he felt a warm tear run down his cheek and a reassuring hand on his arm, and he quickly wiped said tear away. “I don’t… I-I don’t really know…”

He _did_ know. He knew he wasn’t okay. He knew he was broken. There was something wrong with him, and it wasn’t those depressing thoughts alone. He couldn’t function right. He had been too damaged. There was no going back. He would never be that cheerful Nightmare he had been for a short period of his life. He was completely and utterly broken and _nothing_ would fix that…

So he had nothing to lose.

"I- I just… I thought…" He clenched his eyes shut, and suddenly the book and the mobile the sound of which he couldn't live without and everything just stopped existing. A pitiful hiccup escaped from him and next thing he knew tears were sprouting from his eyes like they had become waterfalls and he was trying hard to suppress those muffled sobs that kept giving away his inner struggle. He couldn't stop; his body was begging him to let the pain go through tears.

Maybe that was why he wanted to die. Because he was so weak, so selfish, so shifty. Surely he would be better off gone. He didn't deserve to share the world with his brother...

And it was even worse because he was seriously worrying Dream even more so, but he still couldn't stop crying no matter how hard he tried. In fact, it seemed like trying to stop was only fueling his sorrow, and he was reduced to a mess of high-pitched, hidden snivels.

He tried to curl into himself and hide away from everything and everyone, even his own mind that not even he could understand to any extent, but Dream was firmly yet gently grasping his wrists to try and get him to look at him even if he had completely shut his eyes. His tears stung, but not as much as the sense of guilt did.

“Nightmare. Nightmare, look at me _. Nightmare_.”

He first tried to resist, snapping his head away as ugly sobs kept replacing any word he could have had any intent of uttering, but he eventually let his eyes open, though only for them to dart around and for his breathing to increase. He didn’t know why he was losing his composure and why he couldn’t stop it, but he did know he simply could _not_ tell Dream. He would not be the one affected; both would be.

He was fully aware he was in the wrong. That was how broken he was.

Dream could see a panic attack from a mile away, mostly after having experienced his fair share of them, and the ones that were yet to come. Nightmare was at the verge of one, and he had a small window of time to lessen it before it became something truly serious. It was something he was not willing to witness.

“Please, look at me.”

Despite feeling himself grow overly anxious as well, Dream managed to keep his tone steady. He had to remain calm, otherwise he would only worsen everything. Even though… few things could be any worse than imagining what Nightmare meant with ‘thoughts’. His reluctance to explain and his current state didn’t let Dream believe he was just stressed.

Nightmare finally met his gaze, though his eyes were quivering and full of tears that couldn’t stop falling, and he saw more than fear or sadness through his pupils.

“Listen to me. Listen, okay?”

Nightmare only made a choked noise that Dream couldn’t identify, but at least he had his attention and he was slowly managing to ease his breath out. Nightmare didn’t want to panic, either.

“Breathe. Just breathe. You don’t have to tell me anything right now. Relax.”

He melted into his soft, reassuring tone and did as told, or tried to, at least; sniveling had become a subconscious action. His chest was being hammered and the tingling didn’t stop, and Nightmare was afraid, and he didn’t know what to do, so he simply allowed himself to lean against his brother in search for alleviation. Dream wrapped an arm around him, patiently waiting for him to calm down, assessing the situation as best as he could.

He felt like he wasn’t going to like whatever it was Nightmare had to tell him.

_At all._

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here with you.” Dream rubbed his brother’s arm, pressing their foreheads together in an attempt to further calm him down. He was surprised it was working so fast, but it wasn’t like he had a single reason to complain. He left a comfortable silence set in as Nightmare’s sniffling slowly diminished into quiet hiccups, still waiting for him to get a hold of himself, and feeling nothing but relief when the other’s stress seemed to die out.

“…I’m… I’m s-sorry…” Nightmare’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Dream pulled him closer as one last sob escaped from him.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, okay? We’re here to help you. Always.”

Nightmare tensed again before wrapping his arms around his brother, returning the embrace he needed more than anything, and boundless sniffles began escaping from him once again without giving him any means to control it. Dream was momentarily surprised by the sudden embrace before sinking into it, letting Nightmare cry as much as he needed to.

If only he had a soul… His aura alone could have made everything easier. He would have to rely on realism, on the Dream he was always meant to be. That was exactly how things would have gone had he known about Nightmare’s suffering any sooner; relying on his heart and not his soul to make things better.

He was afraid of how hard it was to get Nightmare to be honest, to tell truths he feared. He could only imagine what was going through his mind… and he had ideas he didn’t want to let out through words, but he had to make an advance. “…these thoughts. Are they… _bad?_ ”

Nightmare took several fraught seconds to answer, and he only did so with a barely audible, affirmative hum.

Dream steeled himself. “As in… _bad_ bad…?”

Another pause. “…it’s exactly what you think it is…”

Dream took in a silent yet sharp breath; he _thought_ he knew, but if it truly was that, then he didn’t want to know and he wished he could somehow eject his own thoughts from his mind and seal them away so they would never return.

After all, he had noted how Nightmare always came back crestfallen from his usual visits to the cliff, and the way he sometimes looked at it. He had looked at that same cliff the same way himself before; it was enough for him to recognize that almost inscrutable look of fear, longing and sadness, all jumbled into one _thought_.

He ever so gently pushed Nightmare away, just enough to prompt him to straighten and look into his eyes with his tear-filled own. Dream was fighting not to look away. “…how long?”

Yet another pang of guilt; sometimes, Nightmare felt like he was going to faint. “…since… since I came here…”

And a pang of sorrow for Dream. It was his moment to stay silent for a while, sinking it in…

…his brother wanted to die, if every little hint he had gotten was any proof of it.

And worst of all, Dream had a few ideas why.

“…listen, we’ll- we’ll talk this up with mother, okay? This won’t go any further. We promise. But you have to help us, okay…?” Nightmare looked up at him. He had never seen him look so small, impotent. “We can’t do this without you. You can’t… you can’t keep hiding these things, okay? You _always_ have to tell us everything. We’re not going to shun you for it. We know what you’re going through.”

Nightmare had a fleeting battle against more tears. “…but it’s… i-it’s so egotistic… everyone here’s had it worse than me and yet they don’t–“

_“It doesn’t matter.”_

Nightmare fell into silence without looking back at his brother. It was the first time one of their conversations of such kind had gone that far, and he didn’t know if it was the right choice after all. He wanted a shoulder to lean on, but in his case, it would be at the expense of others. Dream wasn’t showing it, but he knew exactly how much he had hurt him without even putting it into words.

“Your life is not part of others’. Someone might be suffering more or less; it doesn’t matter, because you’re suffering too. No one is above anyone else when it comes to this. If you have any problem, we are here to fix it. It doesn’t matter what it is. We’d never blame you or be mad at you.” And then, it was Dream’s turn to fight back tears. “Because we love you, okay? You’re worth more than you think you are. We will always be there to support you and I promise, I _promise_ everything will be alright eventually. Do you believe that?”

. . .

. . . a small nod.

And for once, it was truthful.

Nightmare didn’t feel like crying anymore, and he wiped off the remaining tears clouding his sight for good as he shakily stood up, Dream along with him. There had to be yet another small pause between them, but it was one that was relatively appreciated and much less tense. Nightmare was still facing down, but Dream clearly caught the quivering smile slowly forming in his traits. “…I’m… I’m glad you’re my brother.”

Dream returned the smile, and they were equal in honesty. “So am I. Come on, let’s go…”

 _I’m glad you’re still here to be my brother_ was something else he wanted to say, but he simply could not, and he erased that from his mind immediately as they both walked out of the cave.

Nightmare gave the open book one last glance. Mistakes were there for people to learn. Keeping everything to himself and lying would never get him anywhere. He would hurt himself, and he would hurt others at the same time, and he would taint his own image by being someone he was not by somehow trying to protect himself.

He had to open up.

He was soothed by the mellow light of the afternoon and the appreciated sight of less people walking around, and he suddenly was not so reluctant to spread his own truths. It was like reading his journal after years he wouldn’t care to count and letting out his inner sorrows opened up a more confident side to him he didn’t know he had.

Just a moment ago, he was extremely afraid of anyone knowing how confused and fearful and desperate he was, the next he was being beaten by guilt in its purest form… and then he just wanted it over with, and he felt like he wouldn’t mind.

…he really was just a book himself. Full of secrets that would only be unveiled when opened.

…it felt… so much better than fretting. He felt… free. It had not been easy to finally release his inner sorrow for others to know, and trying to tell Dream what he really was going through had consisted of the most psychologically painful minutes he had ever experienced, but that was only for a moment. It was the fear of rejection, the fear of failing, the fear of having disappointed someone he had to help.

He only listened to negativity.

He hadn’t, once. He had to grasp those mindsets back.

But the gentle process of not being so afraid to reveal his own personality didn’t surpass his fear toward certain loose murderer, and he stopped when he realized Dream was confidently yet somewhat nervously walking back to the Tree without telling anyone that they were going. That was when those feelings that paralyzed him came back, and he darned that very moment.

He trusted Dream; just not when it came to self-defense. Not without any means to actually defend himself, let alone others as well. He was trying to avoid death, and they were walking straight into it if luck was not by their side.

“W-wait, we’re going… _now?_ ”

Dream turned to look at him immediately, showing just how mindful of his presence he was being.

“You know, with the… guy, somewhere out there?”

Dream blinked. “…oh, that, yeah…” He looked over his shoulder; they would definitely be on plain sight. He definitely did _not_ need that man showing up. He didn’t need anything. He only needed to calm down, get back to the Tree safely, and have a long talk with his mother. Nothing could ruin that; they could be short on time. “No matter, we can just tell Lanny to go with us. Let me go get–“

“DREAM!”

Said skeleton jumped, as so did Nightmare. It came so unexpectedly that Dream didn’t recognize the voice straight away, or had the time to for that matter, and turned around in alarm, only to realize it was Ink who was rushing toward him.

A little too fast, perhaps, because he tried to skid to a stop next to him, stammering something before he crashed against the rocky walls of the cave. It was more than a little obvious that the way he fell was overly staged, though, but Nightmare had been caught too off-guard to even realize what had happened in the span of a couple seconds and Dream still asked him if he was okay, just not with true worry. He knew Ink well enough.

“Completely fine!”

The artist stood up like he hadn’t run into a stone wall and hadn’t dramatized his fall, but it wasn’t long before he had to lean against the walls of the cave and catch his breath. Dream briefly glanced at Death as he approached behind them, a frown on his face. He had never seen Ink run that fast, ever.

“I’ve got… I’ve got good news…!” Ink panted, trying hard to pretend he wasn’t as tired as he had ever been. “Or bad… I don’t know, just listen.”

Both brothers were still trying to analyze the situation, though. Too many things had happened in too little time, and even Death seemed confused when Nightmare briefly glanced at him in search for the context he didn’t find.

Ink straightened himself, “Okay, so… After I finally found Death after looking around for these guys everywhere, and they don’t know anything mind you, we went looking for Core next. Mr. Death here doesn’t even know who they are even though he’d just talked to them, but they didn’t know anything either and of course they only gave me X-Tale as a hint. I told them to go tell anyone they found what was happening while us two went looking for the great oreo family, who were hogging my space of course, and after getting dissed by them and mocked by certain grim reaper they just assumed I was trying to get them to leave so they don’t believe it at all, be mindful of that, and of course they didn’t bother giving me hints.”

Ink took a breath in; all three skeletons were surprised he managed to gush all of that out without pausing, even though it was hard for Dream and Nightmare to fully grasp what he was saying. The people from Reapertale knew nothing, Core didn’t either and was sent to give out warnings, no one from X-Tale believed it… that was what Dream got out of the jumble of words, anyways, and he was about to ask Ink to at least slow down and leave out the details and go straight to the point before he started blabbering again, gesturing everything with his hands and arms and pacing left and right, back and forth like he was hosting an invisible puppet show.

“So after that we came across Echotale and Frisk said they _think_ they saw some weird, tall figure running around the hills like it was trying to hide from sight so we followed that general direction but there was no one there, then we saw Fresh walking around and he said he did see someone roaming about trying to stay hidden but he paid literally no attention to that, but he was near the Underground so we went looking there just in case. We looked through the _entire freaking_ Underground, under every rock, and asked anyone we saw there but there was nothing so we went back and talked to Core again because we found them of course, but they said nobody knew anything _either_ so we were about to go back to the village and check over there and _then_ …!”

He made a tense pause, and seemed about to start throwing words to and fro once again and destroy his hypothetical lungs before Death stopped him from making it any longer.

“that guy is talking to your mother right now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's oddly satisfying to write ink being dramatic as heck after watching underverse 0.4  
> 030


	8. Feathered Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sure you two think you know who you are. I know you completely believe that you were there to protect the Tree and whatnot, supposed to help people with your corresponding attributes… That you were, and are, the culmination of the Tree’s powers and thus should have some kind of own quirk to help you fight off threats…”
> 
> Dream narrowed his eyes as he spoke; of course they were. It had always been that way.
> 
> “But, actually… you’re not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did it really take me almost an entire MONTH to update this thing what's wrong with me
> 
> anyway, so the two other guardians finally got their confirmed names! guardian of magic is Lanny, guardian of life is Quetzalcoatl. RIP Chroniko you shall be missed. 
> 
> context time! [this](https://youtu.be/2fCg3LSKuwU?t=2870) is what Quetz and Lanny look like, in case someone didn't know (probably almost no one because these guys are still shady ;-;), and [this](https://aminoapps.com/c/undertale/page/blog/dreamtale-comic/GN5c_nu0K3DKYJJmPag1BpXP4m8gqeV) is the backstory of certain someone we will meet in this chapter since this one comic is also obscure yet important for the story (i can't find the rest of it in english so [this](https://youtu.be/UHmul8NkG9Y?t=166) will have to do)
> 
> now that that's out of the way, in we go!

"What is with the flaring temper? I simply said I wanted to have a small talk."

_"And I simply said you are not welcome here, and you shall never be."_

When surrounded by humans and monsters and other creatures of all shapes, sizes and colors, it's hard to keep track of every face and be surprised by the next thing one comes across. Nim had been in that place for thousands of years and she knew for a fact that she had not yet met everyone in there; it was like every day, she found someone new, and that was why she was not making assumptions.

The amount of immensely different people made speculating extremely difficult, and it was no wonder why no one really knew who to frame or where to even start. With no other choices left, everyone was fully expecting the unexpected, as well as her, but if there was one thing she would have never expected but had indeed thought of… it was  _him_.

It had to be  _him_  of all people.

After countless years, it had to be  _him_.

Ink's initial description of him had left it rather clear and she knew he was describing something that was not foreign to her from the very beginning; it was exactly why she chose to shift her thoughts to something else, because she would have rather wanted the culprit to end up being some random human and not something that could not be controlled, someone she knew what he was capable of, someone that was more than just a simple threat.

She even doubted that thing in front of her was human at all.

She didn't entirely understand. He should have been there all along, even before her, but he had never been seen again, and it wasn't until a day ago that he had even been heard of. He couldn't have possibly been hiding from the sight of countless people for thousands of years and remain unspotted, only to start attacking whomever crossed his path just then and for no apparent reason. It made no sense whatsoever. Something didn't fit in, like more than one piece was missing.

Not like Nim could care less about small details like those. It was completely irrelevant, after all, and she was not even going to bother asking. There was an extremely dangerous being loose, and that was what she and everyone else had to worry about, not where he came from or what he had been doing or what his intentions were. Now she didn't even doubt of the unsure accusation of that madman having indeed stolen something from the Tree for one second, even though he showed no side-effects of having consumed any of the two fruits. Not like she would have complained if he had indeed eaten one of the black apples he possibly had and suffered the consequences, and that still was a possibility, as long as it was more than one.

The human airily twirled that cursed weapon in his hand, his expression completely passive and his demeanor daringly flippant. "I don't see any signs that say I cannot come any closer. Do you?"

His attitude really irked her, but she knew he was just trying to provoke her into attacking and she knew better than to mindlessly pick a fight against someone who, for reasons she never understood and almost didn't want to understand, had the power to defeat a guardian without much effort. It was good he was keeping a distance himself, and she would make sure he didn't take a single more step.  _"We both know why your presence is unwanted."_

He remained irritatingly nonchalant and unfazed, playing with the reflection of his blade against the sun like it was a child’s beloved toy. "Oh, really? Then what happened with this whole… redemption thing? Everyone is given a chance, but you immediately assume I am the bad guy? Now that doesn't seem very fair, does it?"

Playing the victim? Nim was having none of that.  _"I assumed nothing. We know you are responsible for two, or perhaps more, near deaths."_

"Mh. Am I?"

To almost everyone living there, Nim was mostly known for her nearly infinite patience. She knew how to handle tough and stressful situations without losing her nerves and acting beyond what was necessary, always bringing peaceful results and granting a happy ending to whatever conflict she found herself forced to intervene in. However, that was the day in which she was internally seething, and she saw no reason why anyone would miss the ruffian that stood before her and no reason to stop herself from cutting his mockery short, but she still waited with her ire showing but kept in check by better reasoning.  _"Do I look in the mood for games?"_

He gave her a sideways glance and didn't respond for a second, before turning to fully face her and, much to her relief but also her confusion, sheathing the dagger. He was still a killer, and completely untrustworthy; making himself look innocent and vulnerable was still not enough for Nim to lower her guard on the slightest. "No game. Again, I said we need a talk."

Even if she wouldn't prefer dangerous hostility between them and an actual fight to erupt, she most definitely did not appreciate his calmness. It was more than obvious it was all a game for him, and there was no regret for what he knew he had done.  _"You can keep your blathering to yourself. The only thing I would bear to hear from you is the reason why you are trying to kill people."_

Another short pause. "Well, for one, I am not killing _people_ like some mindless mass murderer, and I didn’t do anything you didn’t prompt me to do. Secondly, and in my most honest opinion, I think you are the one to blame about that, not me."

He saw her eyes narrow dangerously at the insolence, but continued before the guardian could say or do something.

"After all,  _you_  are the one who constantly allows your clearly unhappy, certainly negative 'son' to wander about on his own, away from everyone, unprotected... every single day." And her expression changed immediately; a low blow. "That's not very good parenting, if I do say so myself. Why are you blaming it on me? You should be the one watching over him... shouldn't you?"

…

Green hands clenched into fists. Each second that ticked by, Nim was more and more unsure of why she was letting that man get away with making fun of her, and she was more than tempted to let go of her patience for just that once. Not like anyone would remember.

He had no saying in what she could and couldn’t do. The reason why she let Nightmare wander off alone was because she knew he was more comfortable when he was on his own and needed time, and because no one was supposed to have any harmful thoughts toward anyone, no matter what. They would have to be pushed to unnamed limits for that, and that was why she mostly trusted everyone enough to know they wouldn’t do anything they could regret.

Speaking of, she didn't know why  _he_  still held on to harmful mindsets, or if he ever even went back to being clueless wherever he had been all that time, but it was not the time to think about that, especially not after what he had done and could do if he wasn’t stopped.

Perhaps some people were indeed born evil... one in a million.

And worst of all, she saw him grin at her reaction, and that alone proved he was indeed looking for trouble he perhaps wouldn’t be able to handle. Nim would have stopped trying to prevent her hatred from acting of its own accord had it not been for Lanny suddenly stomping her way beside her.

"What the ever-loving hell is going on here."

Nim visibly started at her suddenness; she hadn’t even heard her coming until she was mere feet away from her, and she hadn’t realized how focused she had been on the passive menace and how much she had silenced the rest of the world until the other guardian joined in; she only just noticed the few bystanders looking on.

However, instead of being calmer by having yet another guardian by her side in case things twisted the wrong way, it was nervousness that almost completely replaced her anger. If there was one thing she knew Lanny for, it was her short temper, and thus her recklessness when she was angry. It was not the time for her to be hotheaded, and Nim doubted she knew what she was up against as well as she did, despite having heard the fateful story more than once. She wasn't about to put anyone else in danger.

That was why she internally panicked when she realized Dream and Nightmare were with her, as well as Ink who was just as reckless as certain elf, if not even more so. If help was needed, that was not the sort of help she would have wanted; it was an unneeded mix of obliviousness and recklessness that was only going to cause more harm than good, and the only one she actually appreciated there was Death.

And still, the human did not bat an eye. He did seem somewhat amused, though, raising a questioning eyebrow at the fuming elf and seemingly not caring about the consequences of angering a guardian, let alone two at the same time. He found it more laughable than anything. "Nice backup you've got there."

Nim scowled at him, but had to focus more on stopping Lanny as she made to stomp toward him like she had been deeply offended, holding her back as she glared daggers into the human with the intent of rightfully erasing him from the world. “Who do you think you  _are_?”

_“Leave it, Lanny.”_

“What do you mean leave it? If you think I am simply going to let this  _simian_ –“

_“Lanny.”_

The elf faltered at the sharp tone, and eventually found herself with no choice but to back down and not handle the situation the way she wished it would be handled. She respected Nim enough for that; it wasn’t for no reason that she had always looked up to her as a mentor, given that she had always been the most composed and comprehensive of the three and taught her most of the things she knew even if she still kept listening to her own ill temper most of the time.

Lanny had more or less an idea of what was happening, and who they were dealing with. On the other hand, the four skeletons that came with her were beyond lost, and if anything, their obliviousness was what was worrying Nim the most and not the guardian of magic’s stubbornness and feisty spirit. That worry hit powerfully enough when confusion and the urge to understand brought Dream to step up, and protective instincts flared.

“Mother, w-what’s going on?–“

_“Stand back.”_

Dream had to slightly flinch at the commanding, obviously preoccupied order, but he didn’t hesitate before backing away, his brother timidly scrambling beside him, and his reaction alone plus the defiant look Ink was giving the human told Dream that that man was in fact the culprit of the mild chaos that had been going on. It was rather intimidating, he wouldn’t deny so, but he was glad it was a human and not a monster who would rely on magic rather than close-ranged weapons. Made him appear relatively less dangerous.

 _“All of you stay out of this. Whatever happens, do_ not _come any closer. This is not something any of you should interfere with.”_

Ink seemed somewhat defiant about that, but knew it was better to comply for the time being. He had already made up his mind to rush in if that guy tried anything stupid, though. He appreciated his life, messy as it was, and he wouldn’t like that madman getting away with whatever kind of trouble he was asking for without knowing what happened when one messed with the wrong skeleton.

The human was still not faced by anything happening around him, and if anything, he seemed bored, but expectant at the same time, an odd combination of thoughts shining through eyes of green and blue. Nim remembered that heterochromatic color scheme from someone else she had not seen in a long time; it was somewhat bizarre. “You seem awfully afraid of me.” he calmly commented. “Am I really that scary? Even for, not one, but  _two_  guardians? That seems rather saddening. I’m nothing otherworldly.”

Nim begrudgingly disagreed with that statement, knowing what he was capable of, but only showed her disbelief through a dangerous glare that tried to let him know she was having none of that claptrap.

There was no point in intimidating him away, that much she understood. It was a fact truer than anything that he would return and keep disturbing the peace if he was just left alone to do as he pleased, and forcing him to stay away from the Tree didn’t mean he would stay away from people; either they figured out why he was being chaotic and found a way to stop him from doing any more harm, or they ended the threat right then and there and continued with their lives like nothing had ever happened.

Neither of the two guardians seemed to deem the first option possible, pacific as they normally were, even though they wouldn’t outwardly refuse to know why he was the only one who wanted to hurt anyone. Someone enjoying causing harm in a place such as that was too odd, and it wasn’t unlikely that he was too far gone, or even unredeemable to being with. He wasn’t exactly helping his case.

“You are acting all tough and mighty because you are all the way over there, aren’t you?” Lanny crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed menacingly. Her wings gave a brief, almost irritated flicker before she continued, “If you have something to say, why don’t you come over here and actually talk about it?”

He only blinked, impassive as he had been all along. “Do you want me to?” he sassed back, finding the elf’s feisty nature quite entertaining.

“Oh, do  _you_  really  _want_ to?”

_“Lanny.”_

Spite was one thing, common sense was another; if the situation was not on its way to escalate too suddenly for anyone to react accordingly, then Nim would not instigate, nor let anyone do so. There were lives at risk, after all, and despite how infuriated she was, she still didn’t want matters to become any worse.

The elf grudgingly stepped back beside her at her mild warning, her glower undying. “He’s asking for a fight, you should stop being so patient.”

The human chuckled under his breath before beginning to pace around, much to the two guardians’ dismay. They both tensed at his mere movement, predicting everything that could happen, readying themselves for any sudden moves while also keeping an eye on the few onlookers in case they became the victims. They too were cautious enough to step back and ready themselves in case they had to make a run for it.

“I see. I’m not going to be listened to, am I? Pity, I have so many stories to tell… some of which might be of certain people’s liking.” He glanced over at the Tree, not exactly focusing on the mythical creatures but the two skeletons trying to hide themselves between them and the plant. “Or, should I say, certain skeletons.”

 _“You have absolutely_ nothing _to do with them.”_

Nim’s warning was quick, clear and harsh, sending her message across with enough efficiency to even intimidate those who weren’t at all involved in the situation, yet barely having any effect on its target even though her tone alone was threatening to end his entire existence if he even dared mention Dream or Nightmare again. She was not going to lose them to some rogue scoundrel.

Nightmare hid himself behind the Tree with a muffled whimper as soon as he realized he was being talked about; he did  _not_  want to be that man’s center of attention again, not even with two very powerful, very protective and very angry entities shielding him and his brother from any harm.

“Calm down,” the human drawled, hands innocently behind his back as he continued to amble. “All I said is that I know something they might want to know as well. I have no intentions to actually harm them.”

“No intentions to harm us– you tried to  _kill him!”_

Dream stepped into the conversation immediately in deep offense; not like Nim appreciated that bold move, but as long as he stayed beside her, she would grant him the freedom of meddling in. Who was she to blame him? It was no lie he _had_ attacked Nightmare, and he still had that cut across his sleeve to prove so. She didn’t know what kind of trick that man was trying to pull, but it certainly was not going to work out.

Contrary to his brother, Nightmare hid himself away even more, but couldn’t help just barely peeking out; something was not allowing him to take his sight off his sibling while he faced something that could potentially kill him, but he felt like they would both have been better by not making their presence any more obvious.

The human merely raised an eyebrow, showed half a smirk, pretending to have no idea what Dream was talking about. “Kill him?” he chuckled in false disbelief, just as if the pained words that came from the skeleton were some completely made-up, laughable accusation. “Who said I was trying to kill him? Assuming things never does more good than it does harm…”

Dream felt affronted at his statements, knowing he was not taking anything seriously and that he actually enjoyed creating unneeded chaos; the direction in which things were going was not to his liking, but pushing away the fact that he was angry and confused, he wanted to know  _why_. Unlike his mother, he would give anything to know why he was seemingly evil and why he was after his brother. Every past troublemaker he had ever met always had one reason or another to be what they were, but his motives were still completely clouded. He had come out of nowhere, after all, and no one but the two guardians seemed to know who he was.

Putting two and two together, Dream wanted to think the first attack had been a coincidence, but the fact that he was not afraid of acting so arrogantly in the presence of two irate guardians and was paying a little too much attention to him and Nightmare was slowly starting to prove otherwise, and Dream was almost sure there was some sort of pattern they weren’t following correctly. It looked like a scheme to him.

“Oh, is that so?” Lanny feigned a sweet tone, laced with vexation. “What  _did_  you want to do, then? Invite him over to a party where everyone can be friends with each other? You have a  _lovely_  way of doing so.”

The muffled chuckle he gave as a response set her nerves aflame like the most active of volcanoes, and it was a miracle she was holding back only because there were lives at risk and because she had no need to go against Nim’s wishes. She still thought the dryad was being way too patient. “I said I was not trying to kill him, not that I wanted to be friends with him. And you so rudely interrupted me, you know… there’s a reason I came back here.”

It was too much of an insinuation, almost a threat clear as water, that Nim could not hold her patience any longer. She’d had just about enough.

It only took a swift swipe of her arm for a gust of magic to surge into the ground beneath her, the earth around them briefly rumbling and slightly cracking before a large root burst out of it with the strength of a geyser, mere feet away from the man. He merely sidestepped it, his expression showing no more change than an easily missed furrow of his eyebrows, hair and clothing waving following the force with which the root had erupted from the ground.

It was a warning, but not one to be taken lightly. It was not meant to directly hit him, and he seemed to be completely aware of that, but he did not show a reaction appropriate enough for Nim to reconsider. Next one would most definitely  _not_ be any sort of warning, and he looked too unaffected for her to think about giving him a chance to cool off.

 _“I said you have nothing to do with them.”_ Nim practically growled, her words slow and incensed, her fury off the charts. At that point, she no longer had the patience to wait for his answers, but part of her did want to know why he would be focused on Nightmare of all things, now that she knew he really was his target. However, that was exactly why she wouldn’t bother asking anything; mocking her was one thing, openly admitting he was about to cause more harm was a very different one.

And despite that, the human still played the nonchalant card and casually sauntered around the root as it slithered back into the ground. “Mh. It’s actually funny… you seem  _so_  bent on protecting the two bundles of bones you call your children, and yet acted so differently toward them all those years ago…”

That caught both guardians off-guard, most especially the dryad. It was confusion more than anything, but enough of it for Nim to let go of her wary magic. Why would he know _anything_ about Dream or Nightmare? The night he attacked had to be the very first time he met them, and it wasn’t like he could have gotten to know much about them that way. Her eyes narrowed in thought and suspicion. _“What are you talking about?”_

It was not exactly a question and more of a threatening demand, but the human was still in no rush to oblige and preferred to continue taking his sweet time to unveil the answer to his riddles. “Oh, I think you know  _exactly_  what I’m talking about. Tell me, when were you planning on telling these two the truth?”

Nim drew back at his unexpected words, not quite getting hold of what he was aiming at.

“The truth, that little ‘secret’ you were struggling to let out, however you want to call it. I’m simply bringing that up to help you, and them, nothing more. It has become obvious you were not going to tell them anytime soon, so… might as well give you a hand. I’m honest like that.”

Truth? Secret? To say Nim was lost was an understatement. She had no secrets…

…unless he meant what she thought he meant by a ‘secret she was struggling to let out’, and by ‘helping them’, but that would be impossible. He couldn’t know about that, he hadn’t been around until then. It made no sense, it had to be something else…

“I understand you. I can only assume it’s not easy to admit that you’ve blatantly  _lied_  to someone close to you for years, and years, never bothering to make up for it…”

Everything seemed to go silent, enough for even the wings of a fly to be heard as clearly as the rumble of thunder. Ink and Death looked over their shoulders in confusion at the other two skeletons, and it was no wonder why they both had those skeptical frowns on their faces. Even Nightmare allowed himself to take a step into sight and slightly keep his head tilted questioningly, completely lost in what was happening yet itching to know because it simply made no sense.

Both siblings had to give each other a brief, knowing glance. There was no way their mother would ever lie to them, let alone for  _years_ , without having faltered even once. She was not like that. She had no reason to. Who was that man to know? All he knew about them, or all he _should_ know about the considering his sudden appearance, was that they existed.

Lanny also gave Nim a small glance to confirm she was as doubtful as she was, and such was the case, but there was something else lurking in her empty eyes, something akin to distress laced with a distant sadness, something that brought Lanny to wonder if she did actually know what he was blathering about, and her silence about it made her feel anxious.

“But of course, who would believe  _me_? I’m just a stranger, aren’t I?” The man closed his eyes, breathing out a brief chuckle that was not by any means reassuring before opening them again. The judging green and ice cold blue bore into them with malice. “But truth is, I know more than I let on. One might even say I know too much, and I would not say no if put under that statement. We have the liar herself right here to prove whether I’m right or wrong.”

Nim still did not react. He _couldn’t_ know that… could he?

“I’m sure you two think you know who you are. I know you completely believe that you were there to protect the Tree and whatnot, supposed to help people with your corresponding attributes… That you were, and  _are_ , the culmination of the Tree’s powers and thus should have some kind of own quirk to help you fight off threats…”

Dream narrowed his eyes as he spoke; of  _course_  they were. It had always been that way.

“But, actually… you’re not.”

The look of disapproval on Dream’s traits did not waver much despite the confidence he spoke with, though his brother looked at him in search for a clue on how to react because he was unsure of everything.

Nim, by the other hand, was aghast.

He _did_ know. She had no idea how but he did know and her mind was urging her to stop him before he said too much–

…but they had to know. They deserved to know.

But not like that. Not so suddenly. It would… it would hurt them…

…but then again, that was _her_ fault…

“That is the lie, and you still believe it even after everything you’ve gone through. I’m surprised, honestly.” The human chuckled again , crossing his arms, but his know-it-all look and firmness did not phase Dream on the slightest yet. He was not going to believe him. How could he? It made no sense for him to have the slightest understanding on how those things worked. It didn’t make sense.

“It’s not a lie.” he finally said, quietly, but defiantly. Nightmare gave him that look, like he thought he was crazy for talking back to someone who could easily end their lives in a second despite the two guardians and grim reaper they had as a barrier. He just didn’t want anything to escalate, but none of it bode well enough for him. 

He still believed his brother more than the person who tried to hurt him.

The man tilted his head at his remark, amused. “See? This is what I’m talking about.” He gestured vaguely at them, grinning almost triumphantly. “Did you  _really_  never get it? It has always been so painfully obvious! How could you even think for one second that you were true guardians? How could you even think for one second that you were  _anything_?”

His tone drastically changed, dropping into anger; Dream couldn’t help flinching. “Your entire life was a lie, and you blindly believed it. You are no guardians. You are nothing but frail skeletons. Not even skeletons, but mere fireballs that couldn’t fight off a mosquito if your lives depended on it. You are made of the Tree’s powers, but that means nothing. You’re just energy. Nothing more, nothing less. Enough strength to live, certainly not enough to fend for yourselves. You are not something that can exist properly. That kind of magic was not supposed to be used like this; you were never  _meant_  to exist, by any means. You’re broken, you always were and you always will be.”

He relished the moment Dream’s stare of defiance trailed off into pure doubt, shock, puzzlement, the slightest hint of fear, but Lanny was quick to interrupt with a wave of her hand, “And what would  _you_  know about how the trees work?”

He tutted. “As I’ve already mentioned, I know a lot.” was his mere reply. “Enough to understand how this kind of magic works and what consequences it has. They are unstable and not something meant to protect anything, let alone be coaxed into believing they are important. She saved her own little life at the expense of ruining a couple more, the lives of a couple oblivious skeletons who always looked up to her as a real, loving mother, and couldn’t even bother being honest.”

The dryad tensed, opened her mouth to speak – but did not say anything.

She couldn’t, because he was…

…he was right. He was entirely right. She didn’t know how or why he knew how the Tree and its more complicated powers functioned, but he was right, and as much as it hurt and confused her, that was an undeniable fact.

She just couldn’t find it in her to openly admit that, and had to let her silence speak in behalf of her.

The man hummed. “Figured so.” He panned his attention back to the two skeletons, “The only way you could even reach  _half_  the power of an actual guardian is by abusing the powers of the Tree, as you certainly already know. How sad is that? Without those apples, you are  _nothing_ , and you will never  _be_  anything either. Nim only started feeling pity for you when she realized things were going off the rails, and that you were not going to survive on your own much longer. And then, the incident occurred…  _mostly_  because of her.”

Both brothers blinked in surprise, immediately losing their path. That was when everyone stopped understanding him completely, even if there was not much understanding between them to begin with, but Dream was still not believing a word. What would their mother have to do with the incident?

“ _Oh,_ this is actually my favorite part.” the human exclaimed with worrying excitement. “Between you and me, this should have been obvious too. If you truly are strong, independent guardians as you thereby claim to be, then… how come even your beloved mother was  _disappointed_  the moment she first saw you both?”

The two skeletons started at his statement, their minds filled with a sudden new wave of perplexity and shock. Nightmare nervously glanced at his mother in time to see her look up like she had been taken out of a trance, giving the human the same, bewildered expression he was being granted by everyone close enough to listen.

…how did  _he_  know that? Perhaps knowing how the Tree’s magic worked was one thing, but…

He wasn’t…

He was  _dead_.

Seeing as only more silence answered, the man continued, hands behind his back once more. “Hard to believe, mh? Especially considering she was and  _is_  always so soft and mushy with you… I can tell you for a fact, that was  _not_  her initial reaction. And really, can you blame her? She counted on all the positive and negative energy there was to protect her… only for it to manifest as a couple of pathetic balls of light that later became… a couple of pathetic skeletons. Nothing but faulty, misused magic.”

He internally grinned as Dream’s confidence visibly diminished even more so. “She thought  _so_  lowly of you… thought you would never be anything other than clueless toddlers who could simply be shoved out of the way even by a gnome. She told you you  _were_  guardians, she told you you could protect the Tree and that you only had to learn… Hah! As if. She only told you those things so you would not believe you were worthless. Actually, this is the funniest side of it… When you two weren’t around, she spoke to the people around her… telling them that she was afraid, and that she was unsure you two would make it. What do you think led to the sudden hatred toward the purple one?”

Nightmare flinched with a quiet gasp, his reaction accompanied by the human’s cold chuckle.

“If even his creator couldn’t trust him…  _who_  would?”

At that exact moment, Nightmare’s world fell apart like it had never before.

Everything became silence for him. Pure silence, the purest silence he had ever been surrounded by, unadulterated enough to deafen him. Everything broke like shards of glass flying everywhere, everything around him shattering and losing all sense and meaning. His body went numb yet he knew he was still standing. He couldn’t feel anything and everything was spinning and the silence was so painful–

He hadn’t even realized his knees nearly buckled and he took a step back, his arm subconsciously reaching out to lean him against the Tree, and he was unsure why he hadn’t fainted yet.

Dream was not too far from completely losing grip on reality, and he tripped over his own words. “It’s… T-that’s not… H-he’s talking nonsense, right mother?” When he looked up at Nim, expecting to see a confident stance that would reassure him everything was okay and that the man was only lying, he saw her motionless, wide-eyed, distant, shocked…

She was… not denying anything, or trying to, and his shoulders drooped.

“…mother?”

Nothing. No reaction whatsoever, and it was Lanny’s turn to snap her gaze toward her.

“That’s just…  _buffoonery_ , isn’t it?”

Her eyes almost beamed, and she was only expecting to receive a positive, probably angered answer.

But she didn’t. Nim remained quiet.

And yet, despite that, Dream was only filled with disbelief, and he vowed to remain that way. No matter the proof, no matter the confidence in his poisonous words, he could _not_ entirely believe him. He knew their mother would never think like that, he knew they were strong enough, he knew…

…he knew he couldn’t even protect his brother. He knew… everything he had ever accomplished… it was because of the powers of a soul that did not belong to him and that he would not have needed had he been something powerful enough to protect the Tree from any danger from the very beginning.

…he knew what he really was, and how defenseless they actually were if it weren’t for their artificial bodies.

…he knew…

…he didn’t know what he was supposed to know. Did he even know anything?

“Does not seem like nonsense to me,” the human laughed, earning a hateful scowl from Lanny, but that was about it. Some people met each other’s eyes, trying to find an explanation, agreement or disagreement, figure out if they were the only ones who did not and yet did understand what was happening. “If I really was making all of this up, would Nim just stay there and do nothing to fight off the lies?”

His tone was almost sweet; sickly sweet, mocking, triumphant.

“I don’t mean to be a bother, really. I’m just helping out, because what good is it to live a lie? Especially considering it was not going to be revealed anytime soon… Besides, that was only  _one_  of the things they deserved to know. I did say they would appreciate what I had to say, did I not? So, now that we’ve got the big news out of the way…”

“Now I think it’s the time for you to go.”

The way Lanny soughed her words was enough to pull Dream out of his trance and glance at her almost fearfully, for he had never seen her so angry and certainly would have never wanted to had he foreseen the results. The same couldn’t be said for Nightmare, though. His gaze had locked onto the ground he stood on, his body devoid of any and all movement, and his brother soon noticed that. His lavender gaze screamed a million words of sadness and everything in-between, and the briefest of looks at him could easily tell what he was feeling just then.

His mother’s silence was like a hand grasping his heart, wrenching it, tearing it to shreds.

…he never _was_ anything. It wasn’t just a mindset. It was reality.

The man falsely pouted despite Lanny’s incandescent fury, and no one was exactly sure why he had managed to remain so nonchalant thus far. Even if their anger was not directed at them, most of the bystanders cowered at the mere thought of the guardians being aggrieved. “Aw, you want me to walk all the way back? Even after I got that weight off your shoulders? That does not seem very nice of you.”

The elf’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her palms glowing in a strong magenta hue.  _“I am not referring to that kind of go.”_

Projectiles of bright magic flew out of her hands in an instant, but almost as if it had been a choreographed move, the human skillfully jumped out of their way like he had seen them coming from a mile away despite their sheer speed, the empty ground in which they landed on, already battered by the protruding root, bursting into bits of charred grass and earth.

Ink didn’t seem too happy about watching what still was his own little universe, in one way or another, being destroyed when it should have had no reasons to considering the nature of that place, but that was not the time to start complaining and he fully acknowledged that, brandishing his paintbrush in a defensive stance. He definitely was not going to let anyone get away with causing trouble if he was there to do something about it, and he didn’t care if someone way more powerful than him was already handling that job. Death was at the ready, too.

He had little to no idea what was going on, but he could always ask later.

“Oh, come on now,” was the man’s only response, pulling half a smirk despite nearly having been obliterated out of existence. “Are we really going to use violence? This place’s standards don’t seem appropriate for that. You are going to ruin the surprise with all this senseless ruckus.”

“Shut  _up_.” Lanny all but snarled, another barrage of magic shot his way, that time accompanied by Ink’s own paint splatter. His attempts to catch the human off-guard were in vain, though; he had remarkable reflexes, he would admit that, even though that was one more reason to be afraid of him aside from that dagger, and Ink wished he’d had the opportunity to ask – or demand to know – why a mere scratch nearly killed him. Too bad it was obvious the human would not have the chance to keep saying anything.

Throughout the little face-off between elf, skeleton and human, Nim could not yet bring herself to react. Dream could not read her expression, and it made him feel afraid. It would mean everything that guy said was entirely true, but… it  _couldn’t_  be that way. He knew she would have never wanted anyone to harm him or Nightmare, and he knew she really did appreciate them with all her heart. There was something missing. Something was not right. His words  _shouldn’t_ make sense, should they?

…but then he started focusing on the small scuffle, and he realized something that he had never pondered about enough for it to click the way it did just then. He saw the amount of distress and confusion and anger piling up on everyone, and his first thought was to step in, help… but he was powerless. Completely powerless, and he could get himself destroyed if he even tried standing in the way of that thug.

Before obtaining a soul, he had never been faced with that kind of urge to help no matter what, and he felt… empty.

All the power he ever had came from that single fruit that sealed his fate, not from anything he ever possessed himself. He was the culmination of positive energy… but that in itself meant nothing. The real positive energy was all stored in the Tree like it should have been, and it was the same way all those years ago. He was made out of that energy, but that didn’t mean he was strong enough to be considered a guardian, and the same case applied to his brother.

They were… energy. Only energy, and that was it. There was nothing special to them. They were frail, and just… bystanders. He fully realized that when he let the scenery in front of him sink in deep into his mind. What if he was living in the past? What if he had no one by his side but his brother, and that same man was attacking? What would they do? They didn’t possess their own magic. How could have they possible protected anything?

He had always believed their power, whatever it was, was stored away, waiting to be released. He had always believed they had to wait. Nim had always told them guardians only used their powers for good, to protect others and themselves, and that was why neither of the two brothers felt any kind of urge to step into action before it all went to hell.

They truly had been lucky nothing especially dangerous ever happened to them… but…

That was not how he had expected it to be. For some time, he had known he was relatively weak without the power of the apple, but he would have never guessed Nim of all people would hide the truth from them and coax them with something that was completely false. The way their story had been told always led him to believe there had to be something that made him special in some sort of way.

It was… a very farfetched thought.

…he didn’t know what to do.

“Are you really going to ignore me like this?” the human continued, and it was only at that moment that Nim gave him the briefest of glances. By that time, both Dream and Nightmare had fallen into the depths of their thoughts, and she knew they wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon. It was her fault. “ _Certain_  someone is not going to like you messing everything up.”

His deliberate emphasis brought Lanny to hold back for a second, her glare questioning and demanding. "Another one of you lunatics? Good, one for each. Where's the coward?"

There was a jeering laugh in response as she scanned the area for the next threat, seeing as Nim was slowly starting to come back to reality. She would ask her what was actually happening later; they had a madman, possibly more than one, to take care of first of all.

"Oh, you don't even know…"

It was then when some uncanny noise rattled Dream's nerves, enough to make him snap out of his jumbled thoughts in an instant. Quite literally, too; the sound was a rattling. Not too loud, somewhat distant, but definitely rattling, reminiscent of a rattlesnake, and he whirled around when he realized it seemed to be coming from behind him. It didn't take long for Nightmare to mimic the motion in a panic despite his inner conflicts, but none of them found anything.

The eerie noise did not go through deaf ears; everyone had to look over their shoulder, but no matter where their eyes searched, there was nothing to be found aside from the onlookers also startled by the rapid succession of identical sounds. It was almost ghostly, and unnerving, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

She didn't want things to go off the rails more than they already were, but Lanny was getting seriously fed up with the mockery and unnecessary mystery. There still was a faint, pink glow lighting up in her hands as she took a defiant step forth, a sign of intimidation Nim didn't miss. "Look, I've had it with you and your games.  _What are you planning_?"

Though phlegmatic, the look the human briefly gave her felt like it was boring into her soul, menacing without the intention to be. "I'm not even doing anything." he finally replied, adding a small pause. "He is."

The confirmation of someone else around made everyone's alarms blare simultaneously, especially coming from someone who was decidedly there to cause harm. He was not looking anywhere in particular, however his gaze had slightly moved more toward Ink and Death, but too little for the others to notice. Not until said other presence made itself perfectly known…

"Indeed, I am."

The voice was calm and composed, yet so cold and cunning, accompanied by a much louder but shorter rattle straight behind the grim reaper that made both him and the smaller skeleton beside him jump back and turn to face the threat. Lanny turned around even faster than any of the others did, her intent fully set on striking first and asking questions later without minding any sort of reprimand for instigating without knowing what she was up against…

…but instead of flaring, the magic in her hands only diminished as she was taken aback by what was not a threat in her eyes.

Nim reacted the same way as she turned to face yet another assailant, only to immediately recognize the strange creature that had somehow crept his way over to them without anybody noticing despite the constant rattling that had only just stopped. They both paused, wide-eyed. Despite having gone along with the general rule of expect the unexpected for ages, who they found behind them was just too much of a surprise.

Both would recognize the headdress, the slit-shaped pupils in irises of green and blue, the fanged smile, the irregular patches of crimson scales, the rattlesnake tail in the span of a single second, anytime, without a doubt, even if they had not seen those unique traits in years, even though they _should_  have. All logic imploded into itself and scattered into an incomprehensible mess of factors that did not make any sense whatsoever.

The Tree of Life had been there for quite some time; Ink had found it in Waterfall, of all places, just a few days before the multiverse collapsed, and could’ve sworn it hadn’t been there before. On the other hand, that was the very first time they saw its guardian since, and they couldn't understand why.

Lanny was at a loss of words, stuttering incoherent things to herself as she tried to grasp some sense, while everyone else looked at the uncanny hybrid in utter awe. "…Quetz…?"

Quetzalcoatl gave an almost mocking flick of a forked tongue before glaring at the two other guardians without an expression readable enough, but it felt as icy and discreetly malevolent as the human's, and it was only then that some of those who were present noticed how the two had the same, heterochromatic eyes, and looked oddly similar if they were to disregard the guardian’s headdress and patch of scales on his cheek. "Oh, you actually remembered me. I'm flattered."

He slowly walked around them, observing them almost mathematically, tail rattling slightly every once in a while as he ambled his way toward the human past many shaken gazes.

Ink exchanged perplexed glances between man and guardian, pupils flickering indecisively as he did so. "Who  _are_  you people…?!" he stressed to no one in particular, confusion beginning to be too much for him. He was only there to warn others about the guy that was trying to murder people and watch the outcome, and aid if necessary, not witness the strangest confrontation he had ever been stuck in the middle of.

Death slightly leaned toward Dream, muttering, "seriously, who are these people?" almost in a sing-song way.

Dream just wished he knew. He just wished he knew anything.

"Trust me, I'm as lost as you are." he muttered, as Nightmare stepped behind him and the Tree again, away from everyone's sight.

At that point, Lanny was too bewildered to keep asking the hundreds of thousands of questions that were piling up on her mind, but she almost was more angry than anything given than Quetzalcoatl had indeed been gone for far too long when he should have been there along with his tree, but she couldn't even do as much as ask him that; which was why Nim did so instead, phasing through her own bafflement.

 _"You… Where_ exactly _have you been all this time?"_

Anger was not hidden in her words, that much could be told. She had no reason to be content about his disappearance and sudden presence, either, but she still was more worried about the human, and why he was not doing as little as shifting the closer Quetzalcoatl wandered over to him, like he was actually waiting for him. The snake hybrid only replied with a small shrug, a fanged grin. "Around."

None of the two guardians seemed to appreciate his vague response, and Ink took the chance to scoot over to Lanny while the two of them tried to find ways of wording everything that was on their minds. "So, um, who's this guy supposed to be?"

The elf glanced at him briefly. "Guardian of the Tree of Life." she mumbled, almost to herself, before raising her voice with a jeering tone directed at said creature. "What a guardian he is."

As passive as the human now beside him, Quetzalcoatl only answered with a suppressed chuckle. He had put up with childish fights between him and Lanny in the past just about enough times to stop taking her seriously – even when she was actually serious. It didn't matter what her reasons were, she was always a child in his eyes, even when she behaved more maturely than she normally did.

And as predicted, she just kept on passive-aggressively yelling at him before he could form any sort of answer. "And since you made the  _effort_  of finally showing up, you could as well get this primate out of our sight first, thank you very much."

"Oh, yes, I believe you have already met my…  _pupil_ , Kamea."

If his presence wasn't confusing enough, that was when true puzzlement settled in to stay, and while the others didn't know enough to wonder and Lanny paused herself to analyze what was going on, Nim  _scanned_  each and every word Quetzalcoatl let out in what seemed like an unsolvable riddle.

Pupil?

As in  _apprentice_?

They  _knew_ each other, and in  _amiable terms_?

Did Quetzalcoatl even  _know_  who that man was? Did he know he was a killer? How long had it been since they knew each other? Why? Was it some sort of alliance? Did he just respect the guardian of life enough to obey him?  _Was it a sick joke?_

"I know, I know…" Quetzalcoatl sighed, taking the meaning behind the sudden, dreadful silence. His words were slow, tainted in venom yet coated in honey, as meticulous as his eyes as they scanned through every single monster and human visible in the area. "I owe you a  _long_  explanation. After all, you cannot just walk in and say something like this, then expect people to believe you, or even understand you."

"Oh, you are going to give us an explanation alright." Lanny grumbled, deciding to stop trying to find the meaning behind something that obviously would not make sense. She found it unlikely for anything to have a coherent explanation whatsoever. Quetzalcoatl, again, did not see her anger as signs of a threat; it was funny to him.

"Settle down, Lan. You all might want to take this…  _kindly_ , otherwise we  _will_  have a problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lil' fun fact: Kamea is the name i was originally going to give the guardian of life, and this other guy was going to be named Ame. Kamea was actually a meaningful name for the guardian due to his motives here, but if i told you what it means it'd be kind of a spoiler. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> also, don't take any of this as canon. Quetz might not even be evil after all, but i like the headcanon where he is.


	9. Paroxysm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were really so many things he needed to say, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t hold back the tears, the dizziness, he couldn’t stop reality from deforming all around him and he never thought he would feel so utterly alone, even if Dream was right by his side. He couldn’t even acknowledge him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ech, finally.  
> okayyy, almost-one-month-long updates might be more regular than faster updates because this last year of high school is proving to be pretty rough. gotta love school. 
> 
> on a side note, this chapter has been fighting me a lot in general. there were so many things i wanted to explain here but it kept feeling rushed and out of place, so i'll have to add the mystery 'n suspense factor. just take this jumble of confusion and feels. v3v

His threat was not appreciated even by those who were not at all involved in the situation and couldn't directly participate in it, but they had no choice aside from listening; the power of curiosity driven by confusion and the urge to know and understand won the battle easily.

"If you mean talking about what you have to do with this _psychopath_ ," Lanny aggressively interrupted him, casting a glare at a still indifferent Kamea, "then yes, you can indeed hurry up."

Another flick of his forked tongue; it seemed to be a tic. "I thought I told you to take this kindly." Quetzalcoatl remained with that venomously calm tone, one that was as unnerving as it was exasperating. He was not there to make friends, that much could be perceived, and if he was, he was doing a terrible job at it. "Not listening to me, are you?" He scoffed. "As per usual."

Lanny was no longer in the mood to keep humoring any more intermissions no matter how small, and there was only so much she would tolerate at that point; the littlest aggravation and she would snap, only something of crucial importance being able to stop her. Something worrisome was keeping itself out of sight, and she didn't like the way Quetzalcoatl was connecting himself to the unthinkable events that had unleashed upon them too quickly for anyone to properly grasp their meaning. She was certain they were part of a much bigger threat than Kamea alone posed, and it kept straying further in the wrong direction. 

"You are not answering."

She was tense, bewildered, irate. It was not a safe combination for someone as bold and short-tempered as she was, and she didn't care that she was defying a being just as powerful as her, if not more; she would handle things her own way if none of those two properly and coherently explained themselves without trying anything funny before the countdown of her seething patience reached a definite end.

Quetzalcoatl gave her a small noncommittal glance before focusing back on the horizon, the sky mellowing into the gentle colors of the approaching twilight. Normally, it was the time for people to tune out, to relax and let some silence take over after yet another day of unavoidable hubbub, but that would not be the case for those around the scene, and probably not for whomever they told if things rocketed into something worse. 

"I would love to oblige to your demands, as always… however, today I am not in the mood to listen to some… little girl."

"Little g–"

Her chest puffed as she took an indignant breath in, her intentions all but driven toward the single goal of knocking some sense into the humanoid reptile before he would dare carry on and keep downgrading her and everyone else. His sarcasm and snark were what pulled the last straw for the millionth time in the span of five minutes, more than anything; the only reason Lanny had been holding back until Kamea ignited the flame of hatred was because of Nim's reluctance to fight back in a more serious way, but she had become relatively unresponsive and, while it was not a good sign, Lanny took it as her chance to take full control over the situation.

What she would say would go, even if it meant fighting against a guardian _and_ a human who was a little too dangerous for his own good.

"But, I know, I know."

She forced herself to stop, unwilling, when Quetzalcoatl continued, a raised palm prompting her to wait before unleashing everything she was thinking in the shape of harmful magic that should and would earn herself some respect even from the jeering guardian who had never truly respected her at all. 

"There is no time for childish games now, is there? You deserve my most thorough explanation. You all must be so confused... and so bewildered..." His sharp gaze panned over to the dryad, and the two motionless skeletons behind her. "...and so hurt."

Empty eyes looked up in his direction for the briefest of moments, a small, silent sigh released as Nim realized the weight those words held despite being so infuriatingly passive. She was hurt, but that was nothing compared to what Dream and Nightmare had to be going through. She had a feeling that getting the two of them to even trust her again from the bottom of their hearts would be far more difficult than understanding and dealing with whatever Quetzalcoatl and his apparent human ally had to do with anything, and she wouldn't know where to start. 

Nightmare was stressed enough already, and Dream too had his own inner troubles to handle; it would not be an easy breakthrough.

She should have told them sooner. Way sooner. She would never even dare deny it was her fault, and that was why she was willing to accept whatever the two of them had to say, tough as it would be, as soon as the current situation was dealt with.

It was only fair, even if she was afraid of the outcome. 

Dwelling on those thoughts, Nim missed the small grin Quetzalcoatl showed in response to her silent reaction before he returned his attention to everyone else. "Some things here will have to be explained at their own pace, as I have already mentioned… especially for this pesky crowd of clueless simpletons who don't really have much to do here and would be better off minding their own business. But, who am I to tell anyone to leave? You were here first, yes? So, eavesdroppers or no eavesdroppers, let's just focus on the basics, for now. I, however... _wouldn't wish for any interruptions_."

His tone darkened, a menacing hiss exposing a much more dangerous side of him without contemplations, and everyone remained silent and backed off as they caught the ominous warning while his gaze was shifted to the dryad once again; they could have sworn his eyes flashed red for a second. "You know, Nim… I'm fairly surprised, and disappointed, that you never questioned why some rogue mortal was ever capable of overpowering you as much as it should have been questioned. Did not expect that from you. You were always the more thoughtful, philosophical one, after all. You still don't seem worried enough."

Empty eyes narrowed in concentration, filled with mistrust, brimming with the will to know and understand and comprehend. Lanny briefly looked up at her before deciding anything she had to say was better kept for herself for the time being, as infuriating as that was; Quetzalcoatl was talking about something that mattered almost as much to her as it mattered to Nim, and they were better off listening. She was still going to give them a piece of her mind if they went too far, though.

Nim did in fact wonder why nothing more than a human, as far as looks went, managed to do enough damage to nearly kill her, but she had stopped pondering about that long ago – at least, until he came back and proved that there indeed was something about him to worry about. It was no lie; either Kamea was just something else, or that weapon was the most dangerous blade ever crafted, and considering that he was seemingly working with Quetzalcoatl made her wonder if he gave him that weapon, for whatever reason. That thought alone made her feel sick.

"Let's take it from the very beginning."

The rattlesnake tail he bore shivered quietly as Quetzalcoatl began pacing again, slowly, meticulously, like he could lunge at any given moment but chose to never do so, keeping a tense feeling in the air. People from the village and more pacific, skittish monsters had already decided to back off or retreat back to their homes, sensing the worst, seeing problems they would rather not be affiliated with from a mile away. Nothing bode well, and they wanted nothing to do with it.

"By the time that happened, everything was as it was supposed to be, was it not? No multiversal chaos to be worried about, no crowds, no overflowing dimensions, only the peaceful world we should have always had." Quetzalcoatl was not trying to hide the vexation in his words. He'd dropped the calm façade, which gave off an even more ominous feeling. "This meant I, alone, was in charge of what existed and what did not around us, and every living thing us three ever saw were all my doing, just like it was meant to be."

 _"You created him. That much we understand."_ Nim stated unceremoniously. The fact that Kamea had been Quetzalcoatl's creation was nothing to be surprised about; he did choose who existed and who didn't around their timelines, after all, while the multiverse they all knew as well as other dimensions worked on their own. She didn't miss the small smirk the guardian of life showed in response that time, though. Something was not right.

"Let's not forget I not only create things and let them wander off freely. Sometimes… I can also give them a set demeanor. Decide how they will act, what they will eventually do, what they might want, who they would like to be with… Define their lives, in short."

That finally got the kind of reaction Quetzalcoatl wanted from the other two. Small, barely noticeable, but it was there: the way their expressions shifted as they began to catch hold of what he was vaguely hinting at. Unsure, doubtful, but knowing.

"Kamea was no rogue goon that just went too far one day at his own will. That is what you would like to believe, huh? He was one of the first I tested this very interesting quirk with, bringing flawless results. He did what he was meant to do, and did not disappoint me on the slightest."

He retreated back with Kamea, smirking the same, hateful way, and perhaps their similarities were just not any coincidence. One single word stuck into the other two guardians’ minds like fire, forever engraved, making them question everything they had ever known.

 _‘Meant_ to do’…?

"Since I, due to _certain_ circumstances, sometimes felt alone, and unwanted... I created him to be my follower, a loyal and precise servant who knows nothing outside of what I taught him, someone who would actually appreciate me the way I should have been from the very beginning."

That same smirk shaped into a fanged grin, an expression that blared danger. "Do you understand where this is going now? It was no accident. It was no random occurrence. Everything was part of a plan that might or might not have gone a little awry on some aspects, but most of it went just like I wanted to. Even if it has led us to this point… it still holds up fairly well. Enough for it to keep going, as I had envisioned." 

A sepulchral silence merged into the atmosphere once again, stifling the air.

Quetzalcoatl tilted his head ever so slightly, that all-too-knowing smile still present in his traits. "In one way or another, this too was supposed to happen. All of us, forever stuck in a mysterious afterlife, set to help others and redeem ourselves… ready to relive everything again... Gives you a few chances, huh?"

That same silence remained for a few seconds; heavy, tense seconds that seemed to turn into minutes, then hours, then years – for the guardians, at least. Nobody else knew what was going on anymore, but concern left none of them as they all watched with bated breath. The looks on the guardians' faces, ranging between confusion, and shock, and distant disbelieved anger, were enough to tell them that whatever was happening was not good in any way. Even Dream managed to push past the foggy curtain of uncertain thoughts that clogged his mind to listen, though his brother was still unresponsive and it wasn't likely he was paying attention to anything but his own thoughts.  

"You see," Quetzalcoatl airily continued, "that initial attack was nothing but part of something on a much bigger scale, and it's almost hilarious you have not realized yet. Kamea did not want the apples. I did not want the apples. We simply needed something to provoke you with. Something that would force you to break that oath to never kill anyone unless it was an extreme situation. Remember that?"

There was too much confusion pressuring the atmosphere for anyone to answer him, or even think of an answer to prompt him to explain himself in a less cryptic way. Realization was slowly starting to truly sink in, and he grinned at that.

"It was all a setup, planned for a long time, and performed successfully."

There was one more beat of silence, before Lanny scoffed silently. "Successful? That little bastard died." she growled almost somberly, her hands clenched into shaking fists, her wings faintly glowing, and she doubted she would be able to hold her ire for any longer. She didn't care if she would aggravate another guardian with her actions: she wanted them both _gone_ , especially that all-too-cocky human. "I don't see how any of that even benefitted you."

Kamea huffed a laugh. "As has been just said… it was _all_ a setup. Every single thing. I knew I was not in any way meant to freely prance out of there, because that was not our objective. It was… a suicide mission, I guess you could call it."

Eyes slowly went wide.

"It had to be that way, and I of course gladly complied. Master's intention was to end a world that was on its way to chaos, to seek deserved payback, which is why the things that happened… had to happen. I had to remain here to keep track of everything and be ready to inform him of anything useful whenever he arrived, but the most important part of my mission was to bring those two to life."

Differently colored eyes glared directly at Dream, who earned a few looks in his direction and prompted Nightmare to lurch to the side and further hide himself behind the Tree, rejecting the sudden attention without second thoughts. Dream didn't seem too happy about it either, but he was less happy about what those two were talking about and returned the eye contact.

He didn't know what exactly he had to do with any of that. Not like he was eager to know. He didn't want to know anything else.

_"You…"_

The looming quiet was only broken by the small, hurt, astounded voice that belonged to the dryad as she looked at the guardian of life. A small, hurt and astounded voice that slowly grew into anger, into confusion. "You _were the one who sent him, then… You…_ wanted _this?_ _Why?"_

Quetzalcoatl chuckled under his breath, not amused. "You should know. I warned you. I warned you both multiple times. You knew what was coming to you, and yet you ignored me, as per usual."

"W- No, what the– _what_?" Lanny only just found out she could barely even speak. "What are you _talking_ about? What warnings? What does that have to do with–… _with_ –" She cut herself short, lost in her own words, her own thoughts. She was lost in an awful vision, a memory she had never understood the way she did just then.

It suddenly made sense why Quetzalcoatl began acting so aloof after one of their arguments.

Why he disappeared.

Why Kamea only made himself known not long after that.

It was too much to take on. Too unexpected, too sudden, too hard to believe. It couldn't be that way. It didn't make any sense. 

Neither Nim nor Lanny had gotten along well with Quetzalcoatl, ever. He was always so egocentric, and erratic, and irresponsible, enigmatic and constantly keeping secrets he told no one but himself – everything a guardian should never be. He brought trust issues between them, and back then it was not rare for any of the other two to be forced to momentarily leave their trees in order to scold him for abandoning his for way too long, 'exploring' the world. Sometimes, Quetzalcoatl acted passive, or ignored them, even if they were in the right. Sometimes, the arguments escalated for one reason or another. Their last argument, thousands of years ago, not long before the incident, had been _harsh_ … but they never took Quetzalcoatl's threats seriously, due to his well-known habit to exaggerate.

He was part of their oddball family, after all, hotheaded as he might be.

They knew he was hostile toward people and was distant, only thinking about himself. They knew he never really respected them, or even his tree. They knew he often made absurd decisions and acted irrationally. But… they would have never thought he would go as far as… meticulously planning to _kill them_. Planning to break the balance, break _everything_. And they could not begin to understand _why_. He always was one sketchy and shady character they could never bring themselves to trust fully, but they would have never suspected he would be behind anything harmful. Not until then...

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Quetzalcoatl practically hissed. "I know a lot about you, but you seem to know nothing about me… Oh, you have no idea the consequences that brought."

Nim was about to cut him off and remind him that he never made his true self known to anyone, hiding behind a mask of unnecessary mystery and clouded by antipathy, before he hastily continued, "When I say something, I always, _always_ , mean it. You always had to pry into my business. You always had to rule over me, like you were any better. You felt the need to control me. Why? Was I not good enough? You made _and_ make mistakes, too, but I never bothered controlling what you do and don't do. I had my own mindsets. I was not doing anything wrong. And yet, I was always the freak, the one who had a loose screw… I was reminded of these lies by you, by the ungrateful mortals I granted life to! Even you, constantly swarmed by self-absorbed creatures who wished for nothing but power, had recognition and praise for merely _existing_. I, who created all life before everything was ruined, got nothing but orders, mockery, put under the shade of lies and rumors. Where is my respect? _I never got any_."

It was then when true anger set in, and Lanny stepped forth; Nim was too focused on trying to put everything together that she barely even acknowledger her, let alone did anything to try and stop her from making things worse with a sudden outburst. "Now let me get this straight. You get to do whatever you want, you constantly leave your tree unattended, you are overly aggressive toward everyone, you don't listen, you cause us problems by being so careless… and yet you _dare_ call that a reason to make this aberration of a human only to serve you, and– and _kill_ us… and steal– What do you _want_ , you worthless freak?!"

Unbeknownst to her, she sparked a flame of hatred within the feathered guardian that had little to no means of being extinguished. Quetzalcoatl regarded her with a disgusted glare, showing his offense, his spite, and his eyes again flashed red for a fleeting second. "You clearly do not understand… You think you can play with me, treat me like an inferior when I have more value than any of you two would ever wish to, you think you can step over me and act like you are all good and fine, disrespect me, forget about me. I swore revenge. I swore you would pay, and this is what it has come to." 

Quetzalcoatl took a moment to pause, sigh. "You should know, or at least remember, that I like to be very meticulous and intricate whenever an idea crosses my mind. I love to take things at my own pace, complicate them in a way only I can understand, take the best out of every situation. It's what happened here. I wanted everyone to pay, I wanted to have viable means to stop the world from becoming a junkyard of people who would not even know where they belonged anymore, but I of course was not going to use the traditional way… That is when I had the brilliant idea to use _your_ powers to their maximum extent."

Kamea nodded almost contently. "And Lanny got lucky." Said guardian narrowed her eyes at him. "She was the first target before we switched over to something that had more chances of working... Good thing we did, too. Our original plan was to weaponize those two. Use them against what they were supposed to maintain. Of course, this is where things went awry, but… Master found it to be even more fun than what he had originally envisioned."

"Indeed." the guardian drawled, taking note of Dream's expression of shock. "You were quite the interesting duo. I'm glad you had my attention until… that happened. It's not exactly the type of revenge and destruction I had wished for, but… it worked either way. It definitely was much more entertaining to see the outcome of this jumbled yin-yang issue than commanding you to do this and that, but now it's about time to do things the right way."

_"You will not touch them."_

Nim was quick to catch the meaning behind his words, the threat they held as they turned into an ominous whisper and heterochromatic eyes tried to gaze into the hiding skeletons. 

Dream stepped back, trying to somehow stay away from Quetzalcoatl's focus by staying behind the other two guardians, but it seemed like he and his brother had gained too much of his attention. He didn't like where it was going, and he glanced at his brother several times as he kept his main focus locked onto the humanoid. He could tell Nightmare had completely disconnected from reality; he was not reacting, not listening. Everything had paused when something he would have never thought could be true rained upon him without mercy, and that was all his mind let him see.

But aside from that, aside from the heartwrenching sight, aside from the apprehension that was compressing his chest, Dream found himself more drawn to the natural motherly instincts of the guardian that had brought them to life as they were indirectly threatened, and he found himself at a mental crossroads.

He knew for a fact Nim loved them both dearly, and would protect them as fiercely as she would protect the Tree from any danger. If anything Kamea had said was true, which likely was considering the dryad's reaction to his harmful little speech, then it was in the past and should _stay_ in the past; all he saw was a caring mother who would always keep them safe no matter what. She'd acted wrongly for never telling them, but there had to be more than met the eye.

Nightmare didn't seem to share his thoughts, though... and that scared him more than the rogue guardian. It was not the time for him to keep losing trust...

Quetzalcoatl dismissed Nim's threat completely, scoffing, and ignoring their stances; Lanny had gone defensive as well, knowing that reasoning really was not going to be an option. She cared a lot about Dream and Nightmare, too, even if she had only truly known the latter for about five minutes prior to that. It wasn't an urge to protect and stay beside them as strong and subconscious as Nim's was, given that she wasn't as affiliated to them, but she would still go to great extents to keep them safe and certainly wasn't going to let Quetzalcoatl and much less Kamea hurt them in any way if she could do something to prevent so. She was not taking any chances.

"Relax… How scandalous." Quetzalcoatl drawled, all too calmly, like he was trying to appease a child throwing a tantrum without bothering to raise his voice despite how irate he had sounded not long ago. "What an attitude for a liar… If I wanted to do something right now, I would have already. You really are not what I would call obstacles." 

Nim narrowed her eyes at his nonchalant, ominous behavior, showing nothing but complete mistrust. 

"I really just wanted to let you know how things are going to be from now on. I wouldn't want to spoil the bigger surprise… and besides, acting now would be nothing but a huge anticlimax. You don't know me, or at the very least _shouldn't_ know me, for ruining things like that."

_"Then take your so-called friend and get out of here."_

All in all, it was quite the hard decision for Nim to tell them both to leave; partly because she needed the answers she knew Quetzalcoatl was treacherously hiding, as always, partly because she didn't find it safe to let those two roam around, but if Dream and Nightmare were their focus over anything else, then they would have to go through her first, and she would be waiting by then. 

She had to drop the subject. Too many things were piling on top of one another and certain people, she included, would not be able to keep holding their weight for much longer. The two of them were a threat; that was just about enough information for the day. It wasn't like it was even remotely a good idea to fight against an immensely powerful being and someone who had the power to kill all three of them if he tried hard enough. It wasn't the time to endanger people and create chaos.

At that point, nothing seemed like a good idea, but cutting that situation short was the best option.

 _If_ it could be done peacefully enough, but much to her relief, the guardian of life seemed to step closer to complying after a small sigh. "Oh, no need to bark orders at poor little me, I was on my way to go. What, we can't have a nice reunion? For old time's sake?"

The dryad was unfazed by his false innocent smile and head tilt. _"Leave. Now."_

Despite overflowed with anger, her voice was close to cracking due to a sudden mix of emotions as she awaited the outcome. Anger, because of blatant betrayal. Sadness, because of what was to come. Fear, because of the foreboding of a sudden attack waiting just behind the corner. 

She wasn't used to being stressed to that point. It hurt. Lanny could easily tell how distressed she was, and it was the only reason she wasn't putting her magic to rest in case Quetzalcoatl was just feigning innocence and was waiting for the perfect moment to strike – also another reason to keep an eagle's eyes on Kamea in case he was the one set to ambush. 

"Still got that temper, I see." the guardian of life commented noncommittally. "I would love to see all that anger turn to sorrow…" And he giggled; giggled like a scheming psychopath would, and the other two guardians needed no more than that to know that the Quetzalcoatl they were facing against was anything but the Quetzalcoatl they knew all those years ago, or at least the one they _thought_ they knew. "I'm sure I will have the chance soon enough…"

He turned away from them and moved ahead a few paces with his hands primly behind his back again as he addressed the human beside him. "Now then, let's not keep mingling with these fools; we have so much yet to plan. I would have loved to stay and grant more answers, but… it simply cannot be." 

"That's a pity." Kamea turned to the others, of course expecting the hateful glowers sent his way. "It's so much fun messing with them. Much more so than I envisioned."

His smirk was promptly answered by a spiteful growl from Lanny, but a hand on her forearm pulling her back ever so slightly reminded her to just let it go; Nim knew it was done and over with and she would give those two no reasons to stay any longer. By the time their attention was shifted back to the guardian, he was holding a small, cylindrical flask on his hand, filled with some lavender substance.

"No need to worry about that. We will pay our dear friends oh so many visits, they might as well end up bored of seeing us. Not like they will be safe anywhere. I see everything here, don't I? This is _my_ precious little word, after all."

For once, even Nightmare had to turn and look at the perpetrator of such confusion and apprehension, in case he hadn't heard right. Even Nim let go of a brief gasp.

“Oh. Might have said too much.”

Quetzalcoatl twirled the capsule in the air, catching it with a small flair and a crooked smirk, " _Totazque_." 

He threw it to the ground in a sweeping motion, where its contents exploded into a growing cloud of purple smoke as it shattered into pieces.

And they were gone.

To say every single living being around the scene was thunderstruck was a prominent understatement, and so was to say the silence was dismal and absolute. The shock that rocketed through everyone's minds as they tried to analyze what had just happened could be compared to the amount of water droplets in the vast ocean, and nobody could really utter a word, even to talk amongst themselves about what had just taken place.

Lanny kept trying to say something, but she couldn't even form a single phrase and she only managed to stammer her disbelief.

"Well, um, that… that happened." Ink muttered to no one in particular, only then looking up at Death who was as still as a statue watching in utter perplexity as the last of the smoke cloud disappeared into the air. "… _what_ happened?"

He could only look at the smaller skeleton; lacked the words to actually answer. 

They both flinched as the elf let out a frustrated grunt and stomped past them, letting the need to give someone a taste of her powers dwindle into growling insults most definitely directed at the ominous duo which likely only she understood – Ink overheard something about trolls and eating rats. Charming millenary creature, she was.

By the other hand, Nim didn't openly react. She briefly glanced at Lanny as she started pacing back and forth and leaving her anger known to the word, but let her discharge. She knew she needed it, and she had other things to think about.

 _Many_ things. 

But she remained silent, at first. She didn't know what she should pay attention to first, what she should say or do, what she should focus the most about. There were so many things that didn't make sense, so many things that had to be fixed. It was like her body no longer wanted to respond, overwhelmed by a sudden burden she would have to fight against sooner or later.

Sooner would hurt.

Later would hurt, too.

There was no getting away. 

"...mother...?"

She couldn't help taking in a sharp yet silent breath, and the quiet, confused, hurt, lost voice that belonged to the same skeleton that was always in the mood to prance around hit really close to home. Dream sounded completely devastated and in need of serious guidance; she almost didn't have the courage to turn around and face him, but she had to.

His stance screamed insecurity and distress. He didn't know what to say and not say, what to do and not do, how to word his thoughts, who to speak to, who to look at. He was as lost as any needle in a stack of hay, switching glances between his mother and his brother who had once again stopped regarding his surroundings. He had only noticed, he was shaking.

Nim wished she knew what to say, but she didn't. Not like Dream knew, either, and Nightmare straight up couldn't. At first glance it would be difficult to know who was the most distraught of the group, but soon the saddening thoughts that were eating him alive began showing in the shape of tears as Nightmare forced himself to look at the other two. It felt like he didn't know who he was looking at anymore.

Dream wasn't about to say he didn't understand the silence. He did, to an extent, but he really needed reassuring words. He really needed explanations, guidance. He needed them more than he ever had. Explanations and guidance from someone he could trust just a little more than a dangerous human and a psychotic snake whom he had never even met or really known of until then.

But it seemed like the words he needed to hear kept stopping themselves, especially when Nightmare couldn't keep in a sob and next thing they knew the dam broke and he was a mess of spilling tears. Nim really did not know where to start, if there even was a starting point. 

It shouldn't have been like that.

But it would have hurt either way, and it was especially guilt that was holding her back.

_"I..."_

"...y-you k-knew..."

Nightmare had never been loud, no matter the reason. He always wanted to keep his speech and his overall existence irrelevant, silent, out of the way. 

But that voice. The voice he spoke with – the voice he _whispered_ with, – so quiet, broken, hurt, sorrowed, barely audible. Not even Dream could remember a moment in which he had sounded so afflicted, so pained. That sound made his mind shove everything away and focus only on his brother like nothing else existed, and any hypothetical heart he had wrenched as their gazes met, though not directly. 

Nightmare was looking at them, but all he saw was a haze; silent tears continued cascading down his eyes like they were fountains, his expression made out of every kind of sadness existent. Dream couldn't bring himself to keep looking at him, yet couldn’t stop doing so. He had never seen him like that. It scared him. It scared him profusely.

_“Nightmare, I never meant to–“_

“You _knew_ …!”

Nightmare took a step back, body heaving with labored and broken breaths as he subconsciously sniveled. Above the suffocating sorrow he felt was anger, and betrayal, and uncertainty, and bafflement. He didn’t know how to handle that painful combination, and it just caused the thoughts drilling his mind to flow right out with words harsher and louder than he would have ever dared using.

It was complete and utter heartbreak.

"You _knew_ , and you didn't do _anything_!" he kept screaming, lost, hurt. 

"Wait, please just- hold on a second–" Dream tried to reach out for him, trying to calm him down with soft words he barely even acknowledged, but his only reaction was to sharply pull his arm away when the gloved hand tried to take hold of it.

" _No_! Why aren't you- _That's not how_ –!"

His aching mind and his broken heart were telling him too many things at once, too many for him to properly handle. He couldn't speak coherently, he couldn't form sentences, he couldn't focus; he broke into choked sobs as tears fell to the ground, and his brother's heart was being ripped the same way his had been torn just by listening, by _looking_ at him.

Even Lanny had to stop pacing and cursing and venting, allowing herself to calm down with a few breaths first of all before turning to look at the commotion with a knowing, worried frown. 

Nim still couldn't find the words she needed, couldn't even find her voice, and few things had ever hurt more than staring at the consequences of her own actions without having any way to fully stop them. She knew she was not the one who had any right to be appalled, but she couldn't help that sour, bitter feeling of being about to cry. No tears, no nothing; just that unbearable foreboding. 

At least Dream didn't seem _too_ affected yet, but that was only because his brother was handling it worse than him, and he would let his word go on an eternal pause if Nightmare's wellbeing was at stake and he had the chance to be there for him. Not like he was willing to listen, though. To anyone.

"Why didn't you say anything...?!" the stricken skeleton kept shrieking through a voice broken by tears. “ _Why_ didn’t you _do_ anything?! W-Why now?! Was this going to be kept a secret forever…?!” 

There were really so many things he needed to say, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t hold back the tears, the dizziness, he couldn’t stop reality from deforming all around him and he never thought he would feel so utterly _alone_ , even if Dream was right by his side. He couldn’t even acknowledge him.

It was then that Nim knew there really wasn’t anything to be said, only repeated. The truth was the truth, simple as that. Of course, some things had been told more harshly, some others were taken out of context, but it was the truth, and she couldn’t be sure they would have reacted differently had she been the one to tell them, no matter how subtly.

But she couldn’t bear seeing Nightmare like that, especially knowing that Dream would follow soon enough. It was almost an instinct to soften the hit somehow as soon as possible, talk some sense into them even if she was dreadfully certain it wouldn’t be as easy before there was no more room for trust, _“Please, listen to me…”_

“There is _nothing_ to listen to!”

The way he bawled those words hurt more than any dagger ever would, breathing more and more heavily, faster...

“I _hate you_!”

And Nightmare took off running, Dream trying to grab his arm again and chasing after him as he almost shoved him out of the way to storm into the direction of the village, most likely heading toward the cave – and Dream couldn’t be more relieved he hadn’t decided to run toward the canyon, considering _certain_ things that suddenly weighed a lot more than they already did, – calling out for him to no avail.

And the dryad could only stand there, petrified, unsure words dying off for good.

Lanny slowly walked up beside her, uncertain, her gaze planted on the two skeletons until they were out of sight, debating whether or not to go after them. She was more afraid of the grieving silence of the other guardian, though, until she heaved a sigh that threatened to mark the beginning of a cascade of tears.

_“What have I done…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Because I'm a language geek and a mythology nerd, I'm gonna have Quetz randomly say stuff in Nahuatl (the language of the actual Quetzalcoatl) because yes. Totazque literally means "we will see one another later", which roughly translates as just "see you later" ^-^
> 
> eyy, [i have tumblr now](https://philocake.tumblr.com/) for whoever gives a flying cucumber. don't expect me to be productive there. XP


	10. Not Such a Close-Knit Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They could have been fine. They didn’t have to know. They could have been a family, the family they never got the chance to be. Even if Nightmare was closer to those saddening thoughts of his than he would have ever believed he was, they could have had a chance to fix him. There was no denying he had been willing to let go of a past that no longer existed, a past that none of them actually understood.
> 
> Everything always had to go wrong somehow…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for anyone who doesn't know/remember who Neil is, [it's this guy](http://jokublog.tumblr.com/post/172659276519/i-dont-feel-my-hand). :'3

"Nightmare!  _Nightmare_!"

Neil was a little taken aback by the sudden fuss, by the unforeseen chorus of heartbroken tears and desperate calls that broke the relative peace in the village after the unnerving sound of the explosions they'd heard before. He had recognized the magenta glow and sparky fragments peeking out from the hill that blocked the Tree from their sight as Lanny's magic, and his alarms immediately blared – it wasn't like anything could drive a guardian to attack, and it certainly didn't look like a warning. It took all his common sense not to rush in; he was well aware that Dream and everyone else was protected by two powerful beings, and also Death, and he was well aware that he couldn't really do anything.

His chest still felt tight though, and he had been nervously ambling about since that first explosion rang across. He wasn't the only one, but he seemed to be the most distressed.

He was relieved to see that the twins were alright, but that of course was as far as looks went. Nightmare ran past everything and everyone without looking up or anywhere but the ground, an ocean of tears cascading down his eyes, his feeble legs threatening to give out as Dream ran after him with his own tears already welling in his eyes, trying to make him stop, to reach out for him, but the other kept running away, faster.

"Please! Wait!"

Several people, the confused feline especially included, looked at them as they ran past with a mixture of pity and perplexity on their faces, not quite knowing if they should run after them or take a closer look at what was happening. Neil knew it was his sole duty to step in; after all, the first time he had ever seen Dream cry was all those years ago, countless, when everything seemed alright with the world, and he had promised himself he would do anything not to see him go down in tears again.

So as the others looked on, trying to grasp what could be happening by linking past events, he stood up and approached – without running, without pacing, just walking toward them, following their distress as they rushed closer to the cave and the cries faded into the near distance.

Nightmare made a sharp turn, almost teetering over, and nearly dove straight into the cave where he finally let his legs rest as he pretty much collapsed on the floor, in the corner, curling into himself as breathless, almost panicked sobs kept escaping from him; the gentle flames of the candles danced as he rushed in.

Dream caught up soon after, stopping at the entrance, momentarily catching his breath, and everything stopped when he saw his brother shaking and murmuring things and sobbing and it reminded him of no one but himself, and that was when the world stopped for him.

Waiting a couple seconds, unaware of the observing cat and other people who were close enough with his eyes looking at nothing but the shivering skeleton, he finally walked in. Silently, slowly, knowing he had to take it calmly despite the rushing feeling of dismay clouding all around him.

He knew what panic was like. He knew what feeling alone and devoid of everything felt like. He knew it wasn't pretty, and he knew what one needed.

That time, however, it just felt different. Like he wasn't supposed to help, because he was...

...he was nothing.

But that was his appalled brother being struck by panic, and he wasn't going to just stand there when he needed him more than he had ever needed anything. He had promised he would _never_ let anything happen to him for as long as he lived, and no matter what, no matter the barriers and obstacles he would surely find in his path from then on, he would keep it.

"Nightmare..."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't. He couldn't focus, he couldn't articulate; his only response was to further curl into himself as if that would hide him from a world that no longer made sense and never would, and he only saw lies,  _lies_ ,  ** _lies_**. It felt like his own tears choked him, and he had never ached so much, he had never feel so broken and empty despite the hell his entire life had been from beginning to end.

It was something else, something he wasn't ready to handle, and it struck harder than any harsh words, than any rock threatening to shatter his frail skull, than any memory of his brother suffering because of him. It was a new kind of psychological pain he couldn't take on, and it surely was taking a toll on him.

He barely even acknowledged Dream kneeling beside him, but when he did notice, a wave of faint relief washed over him, momentarily dousing that voracious flame of fear and pain; he really could not bear being alone and desperately needed the only one who actually cared about his pointless existence. It wasn't the kind of relief he could bring himself to outwardly show, but it was there, trying to appease his racing mind, and he let his brother know his presence was certainly wanted by lightly leaning into him when an arm surrounded him comfortingly, though he was still crying uncontrollably, breathless.

Dream hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most, and he wasn't going to make that mistake twice. He wasn't going to make that mistake  _ever_  again, especially not when things looked so glum once more, not with the stress and sadness he had hoped and prayed not to ever have to go through again since he was erased from life lurking around them, waiting to strike and leave permanent scars worse than the ones that had already been made.

For a moment, Dream wasn't entirely sure what to say, if anything at all, and opted for softly running a gloved hand up and down the other's arm, reassuring him that he was there, he would always be there and he would never leave. He could feel his sibling's diminished yet noticeable shaking, the way his body heaved with each broken sob that tore from him, and it broke his aching heart in ways nothing had ever done so since many years ago. The known sorrow flooded through him, sending him back into the past, a past of fear, chaos, fights, the images of a past brimming with memories and feelings that should not be allowed to come back filling his mind with nothing but bad presages.

He was lost, too, and very. He was lost and he doubted he could ever find the true way back past incertitude's binds, but for the time being, Nightmare needed him more than his mind needed explanations, and he would let the case of his lost identity and the utter lie his entire life had been rest aside.

"Hey, it's- it's okay..."

He pressed his forehead against the sniveling skeleton's temple, reassuring him as much as he possibly could, though fearing not being able to succeed. He spoke gently, quietly, without rush or urge, just like his... like his mother used to talk to him when he first got there, confused and bewildered and trying to understand what he had gotten himself into. Just the tone always made him feel better.

"No, no, nothing is okay, nothing...  _nothing_..."

Nightmare whined, eliciting the other skeleton to pull him closer as every part of him was drowned in grief, the bitter sting of heartbreak surging through him like the ominous feeling of illness. "Nightmare, listen to me. We'll figure something out, okay?"

Dream was well aware he didn't sound so sure of himself. He couldn't, as much as he wanted to, and he wasn't. But honest or not, Nightmare could not find reassurance in his words; he had heard all he needed to hear... and there was nothing else he was willing to listen to, even if it was his brother. He refused to listen to any more words, no matter from whose. He only wanted his company, not his reassurance. He needed someone to lean on. Someone that would understand.

When the only answer turned out to be more spilling tears and muffled wails, Dream knew it was best to simply wait, and perhaps use that time for himself to reflect. His life –  _their_  life – was going to take a whole new direction from then on. Good, bad, bittersweet, he couldn't be sure even if the future didn't look bright enough, but he had to understand that, and figure out what he was going to do next, or how to handle whatever else he would go through. He brought himself to understand that the whole 'peaceful redemption paradise' was not going to be seen as such anymore.

But for the time being, instead of pushing more worries into their ailing hearts and minds, they stayed like that, close, together, each with their own thoughts and ideas, letting their sole company and the knowing that they perfectly understood one another allay their sorrow even for only a while.

"Kid?"

Though submerged deep in his thoughts, Dream recognized the soft voice immediately; however, even if he was glad to have familiar faces around, he wasn't quite ready for more company. It felt heavy to speak, and he couldn't even fully turn to face the worried feline, only grant him a sideways glance. He couldn't even muster a smile he knew would seem forced, and Nightmare didn't react at all.

Neil's ears were down in a display of concern as he took a single step into the cave, careful not to intrude. "Is... everything alright? What happened back there?"

He knew his questions would be rhetorical more than anything, especially when Dream watched him silently for a couple seconds before sighing, remaining quiet for a few more. He didn't want to talk about it, he really did not, but he knew he would have to if he wanted to understand what was going on to a full extent.

"...long story."

* * *

 Immediately he'd found out he really did not have the heart to explain everything that had happened, to anyone. He didn't want to fill his mind with all that confusing and hurtful imagery again, knowing what he had yet to hear, and Neil was completely understanding of it as he had expected, gladly taking 'something very bad' as a valid answer and not prying in for more details.

Nightmare had calmed down enough soon after, at least relatively, claiming he was fine and only needed some time alone to think – he knew his brother only believed the latter, and honestly, he did too. It was a little after that when Dream finally found it in him to seek true answers, with Neil promising he would look after Nightmare just in case. Dream really did not want to leave his side, but he had to know what was really happening; even if the chances of them being truthful were high, he would believe his mother's words rather than some clearly unstable human's he had never met before and certainly could not know more than the one who gave them life.

Everything was eerily silent when he came back to the Tree, and it gave him a very bad presage. Most of the people who had been around to meet what would soon be the biggest threat they had ever faced there, or anywhere for that matter, had already scattered, and without paying much attention to his relatively empty surroundings Dream had already found Core, Ink, Death and Lanny in the near distance, probably trying to figure out what to do.

He had to figure out what to do, too, and it wasn’t easy.

He stopped walking several feet away from the Tree, not entirely knowing what to say, brushing his arm nervously as he thought of what could happen next. Everything just felt wrong, dim and tense like the imminent beginning of a thunderstorm; in fact, he didn't miss the dark clouds with the promise of rain piling up in the distance, ominous against the otherwise empty sky of light shades of purple, and he dismissed how rare weather was in that place to focus solely on what he had come back there for.

He had never seen his mother look so distant, ponderous; she was practically motionless, gazing at nothing in particular, brooding. It had been a hard hit for everyone, and Dream struggled to say something, anything at all. It felt like the entire, baleful atmosphere those two had left behind was closing in on him, taking his choices away and crushing his already battered spirit... but he had to _know_ , even if it had a chance of making him – and his brother – feel even worse.

"...you know he didn't mean it..."

His voice was too small, but it was still clearly audible against the grim silence that had fallen upon a normally active place. It felt too similar to what had happened to his timeline; one moment known as a lively area, the next silenced by the ominous feeling left behind by the powerful force of fear, empty. It made him really uncomfortable, but he couldn't get that comparison out of his mind, and that was one of the things that hurt the most.

No one was supposed to be evil, at least not without a good reason…

What was happening, then…?

Needless to say, Nim was mildly surprised he was even there; she would have thought he would not dare to leave his brother's side for the rest of the day, or days, or even have a reason to come back there to be with her. It wasn't something she had been prepared for, and it took a small glance back, a whispering sigh and a moment of silence for her to muster any kind of answer.

_"...he has every reason to mean it."_

It was Dream's first instinct to argue against that, to defend the fact that Nightmare had gone through an understandable mental breakdown and would never say things like that under normal circumstances… but it felt wrong, pointless, uncalled for. He wasn't there to argue anything, because he was the one with the missing pieces. He was there to seek answers he could allow himself to take, come hell or high water.

He'd opened his mouth to retort, but decided to hold those words back instead of insisting. Head down, he took a few more unsure, small steps, muttering, "I just... I just want to know what's going on..."

There was no immediate reply, which sent bitter waves all throughout him.

_"There is nothing you do not already know, Dream."_

It was the kind of answer he'd feared, and actually hearing it made him feel like he was further sinking. He only realized he was holding back so much apprehension, enough to make him feel like his entire body was paralyzed and his heart and mind were thoroughly refusing to synchronize, and not even he knew why he wasn't at the verge of tears, but he felt them waiting for the right moment to start spilling.

He shook his head, "No, I mean- there  _had_  to be a reason for... f-for all of that, right?"

Ah, there it was again: the incapacity to find true flaws in people. It was something about him that had worried her since the very beginning, that subconscious urge to find any reason to exempt people from their wrongdoings, no matter who they are, or what they'd done. It could be quite the charming and certainly helpful demeanor at times, she wouldn't deny so… but he still didn't understand that was not how things  _always_  worked. She couldn't help but see it as a defect.

Yet  _another_  defect.

He'd brought himself to sound hopeful because he wished he could be, yet was completely unable to. Another few appalling seconds of silence passed by like a treacherous, cold breeze, only the distant voices of a conversation Dream would also like to be a part of breaking it; Lanny would surely have something to say as well.

_"Not like any reason would ever excuse what I did..."_ Nim lowered herself to the ground, prompting the skeleton to sit down beside her after stalling for a moment.  _"But if you really must know…"_

Dream kept arguing with himself about whether or not he was truly prepared to know more, if there really was more. If there was one thing he'd learnt, it was to never take anything for granted, especially not there with so many people left to meet, all with their own powers, mindsets, ways of living – but he, however, could have never predicted something like _that_.

He had never even known what had really happened to his brother throughout the years until well after their many fights and disagreements, not too long before it was time for him to meet his demise, or what the people they had grown up with really thought of them; he was sure there would be nothing else to know that would matter… He would have never expected to be so wrong.

And the worst part was that it made sense, reflecting on it.

_"I was afraid."_  the long-overdue explanation began.  _"For you, and of you."_

Dream couldn't help a confused glance, because he and his brother were no longer anything people would ever be afraid of or would respect, which, to an extent, was a trait guardians should have. He had never looked into his seemingly subconscious innocence in such a way... and yet it was so obvious.

_"You were such wee things... and you still are. When I summoned you, I was fully expecting more, something like us. Like us… as we used to be. Originally, we were like you; floating clusters of magic without defining bodies, except larger, more complex... and certainly stronger and more independent. I thought... you would be the same. I thought you could gain independence, stay strong even without physical bodies, fend for yourselves as naturally as we learnt to... but such was not the case."_

There was a pause, almost as tense as it was grim; a soft breeze blew past in the meantime, cold, announcing the drop in temperature the approaching storm would bring with itself. Dream was so focused on understanding that he barely stopped to wonder about how interesting it was to know that all three guardians had once looked like nothing but mere fireballs… and yet even they were more than he would ever be.

_"You could never gain your own magic, only retain some physical strength. You indeed were nothing but a small representation of the Tree's powers, with no power yourselves, meant to have no defined goals, no defined personalities, only capable of learning from your world without ever questioning anything. That is why you have always been so bent on helping everyone with no second thoughts, and why your brother is so susceptible to being seen as something bad, even by himself, and those are the traits you have stayed with. That is why... you are, in fact, broken..."_

There was silence once again, the breeze never ending, staying there and growing colder as the clouds grew closer and the night began to slowly take over. Distant flashes of light shone above, but no sound followed yet. Dream looked down, involuntarily fidgeting, thinking everything through...

"But I... I'm fine-"

_"You only think you are. You think you are because this is all you have ever known. This is all your mind ever let you be. You knew you were made out of positive energy, so you adapted this mindset of blindly helping everyone you come across and always forgiving. And I am of course not saying that is wrong... but there is more to the world than that. That urge to spread second chances will not always be the solution, but no matter what you might think, you are unable to see that."_

And Dream realized he couldn't replicate to that just as he was about to.

No, he never thought twice about trying to redeem someone, because he knew they always had one reason or another to have ended up the way they did; perhaps something understandable, perhaps something selfish, but there always was some kind of reason behind their actions – even Quetzalcoatl seemed to have a reason to seek vengeance so vehemently, despite him not quite understanding it. There was supposed to be nothing wrong with looking for those reasons and finding a solution, right? It was true he had gotten into trouble many times because of that, _serious_ trouble, but...

...maybe he _was_ a little too adamant on that. He had never really stopped to think about it with such care. He had almost carelessly risked his life many times before for believing anyone could change with the right reasoning despite carrying the last positive feelings in the entire multiverse, but...

"But that was... for the good of everyone..."

Another pause. 

_"At first you only cared about people's wellbeing. The only reason you started putting yourself in the way of danger was solely because of the power of the apple. You did things you would have never done and would have never been able to do otherwise. And while you succeeded for the most part... that stronger mindset is now stuck on you, and it should not be. Even if you no longer have your own magic you are still going to face danger without thinking twice like you still retain that power, and believe it or not, no explanation is ever going to change your mind."_

Dream stalled before saying anything else, wondering if he really was as reckless... Everything he did was completely understandable, right? He didn't want to see anyone suffer, and he had the means to stop it, so he took action. It was fine, right? He knew for a fact he would risk his life if it meant he would save those he loved. That was completely normal, right?

Perhaps it was the fact that he wanted to help too many people at once. Stress himself out just to make others happy no matter if they would even thank him. That wasn't...  _bad_ , either, was it...?

Or the fact that he would stand against those who were much stronger than him for the sake of protecting others, even if the odds were that he wouldn't win or his sacrifice wouldn't matter all that much in the end. That... that wasn't bad either... it was intention that counted... wasn't it...?

He stopped fidgeting, not even trying to muster up any kind of reply.

...he understood. He  _understood_ , right? He understood that he sometimes didn't make the right choices even if they were for a good cause, but... he couldn't just stand there and do nothing. He _had_ to be there and help.

...but who ever said it was  _his_  job to protect the entire multiverse, though...?

Because if he was meant to be one more wandering skeleton, without any kind of power unique to him, then whatever happened in the multiverse was none of his business, right? He didn't have to risk his life every time...

...but he still couldn't bear the thought of not doing anything, even if others like Core, Ink, could bring themselves to admit that some things were out of their reach no matter how adamant they were when it came to safety, and they were more naturally prepared to deal with problems than he was...

Was that what she meant by not understanding?

...he really did not, then.

_"Your brother is more of the same..."_

Dream kept listening through his mulling silence, but he wasn't quite sure he still wanted to. There was a really bitter feeling surging through him, and it wouldn't go away; he didn't think it were possible, but it felt even worse than when his brother spoke lowly of himself.

_"He cannot take on so much; he is too susceptible to change to have a different mindset now. Just like it became the norm for you to help anyone, no matter what, it became the norm for him to belittle himself and think everyone else would think the same, and just like your case, it is not something that can easily be fixed no matter the reasoning."_

Dream looked up at her at the mention of the last thing he wanted to hear – not like he was precisely eager to hear anything... but suddenly knowing that all he had been striving for since his brother came back became obsolete just like that.

Because trying to help him get through everything that was weighing him down had been his main goal since.

He knew it would be a difficult task, but...

...no, it couldn't be impossible... He _could_ overcome it, right? He _would_ , wouldn't he? That was what they had planned together. They would find a way to bring things back to normal.

...except for the fact that there wasn't a 'normal' anymore.

Dream had to stop his train of thought right there before his own mind would continue suffocating him with such overwhelming pressure piling up at more speed than he could handle. He couldn't think about that just yet. Focus on what was important first. Everything would be talked through eventually.

Thing were going to be okay with some patience and understanding.

They would be... they would be completely fine.

...completely fine.

He'd realized his entire body had paused when he tried to speak, stuck in the process of completely understanding what was really going on.

Heartfelt intentions or not, he was unavoidably reckless and not careful enough despite what he might think of himself. Help or no help, his brother would remain victim to those depressing mindsets that had derailed his life in more ways than one.

If that didn't scream broken, he didn't know what would.

...it was important to him, but he really wished he would have never had a reason to know what he was despite everything he had lived through. He felt like it made sense, but knowing that he held on to ideas that could not be changed no matter what, he was certain it didn't make as much sense to his confused mind.

"And... and that thing about the incident... W-what happened...?"

The response was immediate that time, somewhat bitter instead of quiet and sorrowed, and Dream had a faint idea why.  _"It was all a heavy misunderstanding. Everything was taken out of context."_

Nim allowed herself to calm down for a moment, soon returning to the more grim tone.  _"Even though I was disappointed on you, despite not knowing what you would be like, I would have never meant you any harm. All I ever said was that I in fact was afraid for and of you, because I feared you would give up on everything if I told you you were not meant to protect anything, if I told you how frail, how simple yet complex you really were. And yet that was why I feared you would not make it, being so naive and tractable at the time. All of that... was understood wrong. Terribly wrong."_

More thoughtful silence ensued as darkness slowly took over; the looming clouds began to blend in with the moonless night sky, hiding themselves from view and waiting to strike at any moment. The gentle wind grew colder by the second, and though Nim was unfazed Dream couldn't help tensing up, holding on to his cape as cool air seeped through him.

It all made sense... though in a worse way, he thought. What kind of worse, he didn't exactly know, but it was worse. Not only because it put a different perspective on Nightmare's past, but because it also put a new perspective on him being used as something without real emotions, a happiness dispenser. Because it had hurt knowing that everyone he had ever been nice to in that village had used him as some tool, but it hurt more to know that they had always seen him as one and nothing more, simply because of misheard rumors that became forced truths.

He knew their past was bad.

He would have never guessed it would actually be _that_ miserable.

_"I would have done something to prevent what those people were becoming."_  Nim continued.  _"I truly would have. But just like in here, I cannot always project myself into the real world, and even then, everything is limited. I realized things were going wrong too late... If only I had mustered the courage to tell you what I am telling you now, you would have gained a different, and certainly more correct view of the world that surrounded you... And even after that, I let it slide for so long, because I was still afraid of how you would react after so many years..."_

Dream looked down again, sighing, truly unknowing if he should say something or simply remain quiet. He didn't even know what to think anymore, and his mind went relatively blank as he further pulled the cape around his cooling body in an attempt to stay away from the storm's first signs of life.

_"You might call it an act of care and love... I call it selfishness."_

The skeleton could not yet say anything.

Looking back at his life from there... it was a far more painful and confusing memory than he would have ever thought it would be.

When he was out there, exploring the world, helping everyone he could, he felt alive. He felt more useful and wanted than he had felt in the village, even when he was unaware of what he had always been seen as. He felt like himself, like he had achieved a purpose...

...but that was never  _him_. He would never really be anyone in spite of how much he felt like someone that fit in with the rest, until then at least. That helpful, independent skeleton that had been running throughout the multiverse selflessly fighting people's troubles off was what he  _could_  and _should_  have been. A  _part_  of what he could have been. Of what he was  _supposed_ to be.

And what he was _supposed_ to be, was something he _couldn't_ be.

All that fighting, and protecting, and cheering… it was only the work of some alter-ego that didn't match with what he really was, if anything at all. It was another side of him, forced into him, something he would have never become on his own. All he ever thought he was was in reality a wrong personality that filled him with hopes and powers that could never belong to what he truly was. Not even that whole incident with Ink and Error was something he could have prevented in any way had he been ‘himself’.

He wondered if the compassion he always carried along was also lie made up by his delusional mind. If he had been the one tormented for years, would he have adapted the same mindsets as his brother? And had that been the case, would Nightmare have been the one blindly helping everyone because he'd wrongfully come to see that was all there was to the world?

It was so confusing and painful to think about. He couldn't even trust his own thoughts because he no longer knew if he had thoughts of his own anymore. Sure he no longer bore the powers of the apple, but it was true, he felt like he could stop anything if it meant protecting those he cared about, even if his current self was not cut out for any of that. It was almost like an instinct.

His first thought  _had_  been to confront those two, after all. He, something without powers, thought to stand his ground against a sketchy, certainly dangerous human, thought to stand his ground against a vindictive and probably psychotic guardian. And he knew he would keep doing that because that was what his mind had decided he would do in the face of danger.

It was… so hard to understand. Because a part of him saw what was happening, but another did not, and he wasn't sure which part was which, nor which of them was correct,  _if_  there was even a correct one. He feared not.

_"I would not have wanted it to be this way… but with all that is going on now, I thought it would be better if you finally knew, as much… as much as it might hurt."_

Silence struck again, that time with a single, cold drop of rain landing on Dream's forehead, snapping him out of his many thoughts. Soon enough began a light drizzle, only a small part of what the dark clouds announced, but even that wouldn't let the skeleton think about anything other than the mess his life was about to become.

And as he let the gentle drops of water run down his skull, he looked back down with a steady blink.

He couldn't help but think about what would happen to his brother. It wasn't like Dream wanted to be the one to fully unveil all of that to him, especially not with the many troubles that already clouded him, but it seemed like that was his only choice, especially about the… _other_ problems he was facing and that they could have fixed. It was especially heartwrenching to think that he had actually convinced him before. He had actually convinced him to make his own life better, to take his chances, to not let go.

But, considering their logic… he  _couldn't_ change, could he…?

He could no longer be anyone other than someone depressive, someone that was hurt…

The true realization of it all was excruciating, especially because something was telling him that it simply couldn't be that way, and he was quick to acknolwedge that it was just his faulty mind at work. That was what understanding and not understanding at the same time felt like, and he was not at all sure he would ever get used to it.

He didn't want to even imagine what Nightmare would think after that.

They had been so close to finally fixing things…

But odds were the Nightmare he knew would never be back, just like he would never act rationally enough despite how right he thought he was, and could go to the point of endangering people.

He just didn’t know what else to do.

“…what am I going to tell him…?”

He looked up at his mother, not minding the cold air, the cold drops of water; because they were not colder than the truth, and he doubted even the strongest of snowstorms would be.

Nim couldn’t help but avert her gaze, at the same time catching glimpse of Lanny and the others still talking in the distance, surrounded by the gentle, pink glow of her wings amidst the darkness casting upon. _“He already knows all he needs to know, Dream.”_

“But he only heard it from that guy-“

_“Who tells him does not make a difference. The truth is the truth… and I did not say anything you did not already hear.”_

And once again Dream could not argue against that, but he felt like it was mostly because everything was weighing him down, like a restless night, tiring his mind out and his body along with it.

He just didn’t want his brother to lose hope.

Not more than he already had.

“It’s… It’s just… I’m really afraid…”

He supposed he should just let it out once and for all, since it was clear Nightmare would no longer be in for yet another reveal. It was a moment of honesty, wasn’t it?

He took a shaky breath in, the water that trailed down his cheekbones simulating the tears he knew he was holding back without even realizing; he couldn’t understand why they hadn’t begun leaking like water out of a broken dam yet. “He’s… h-he’s not okay… H-he told me he… he wanted to…”

He couldn’t say it. There could be no sugarcoating, and no matter how many different ways his mind tried to put it into words he just couldn’t say it, especially not knowing that Nightmare would no longer be so willing to accept any kind of help. It was the strained sob that let everything be known, and he didn’t see that telltale look of realization on his mother as he huddled in on himself.

All things considered, she should have seen that coming.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less, especially because it wasn’t something she’d known for a fact.

Even then, she knew it hurt Dream more than it would ever hurt her, and she was no longer sure if she would have had the heart to tell them herself had she known Nightmare really did not want to be there for reasons she understood very well and that had just become a truth to him and not a bunch of harmful, paranoid ideas.

“I don’t want to lose him…”

The tearful murmur only broke her heart further, and at that point she couldn’t bring herself to even look at the skeleton she’d betrayed. She couldn’t say it was not her fault; it initially wasn’t, but there was nothing stopping her from telling him sooner aside from fear of a reaction such as this.

Many things could have been avoided, but it looked like fate was not on anyone’s side.

“We were going to tell you… Just before t-that happened… And… and he _wanted_ to be helped…”

And that was when those tears that had been stinging his eyes all throughout finally spilled along with the raindrops. Dream could almost see himself right there, beside the Tree, beside his mother, with his brother, in the sunset before that storm, without worries, without berserk humans and guardians and whatnot, solving their problems like nothing had ever gone wrong with the world.

They could have been fine. They didn’t have to know. They could have been a family, the family they never got the chance to be. Even if Nightmare was closer to those saddening thoughts of his than he would have ever believed he was, they could have had a chance to fix him. There was no denying he had been willing to let go of a past that no longer existed, a past that none of them actually understood.

Things could have gone right, even with those two loosely wandering around and causing unwanted trouble. He had suffered enough. Nightmare had suffered enough. All they wanted was a chance… Were they asking for too much?

Everything always had to go wrong somehow…

Dream could barely hear anything aside from the raindrops, once calming and peaceful, and his own sobbing. The cold he felt was definitely not from the rain.

_“…not like there is much I could have done.”_

He wanted to pretend he didn’t hear that.

_“Even if he wanted any help, those mindsets are much more powerful than you can imagine, just like you think you understand yet will keep being the you your mind set you out to be. As long as anything overwhelms him, he will shut down again, and that is simply something that cannot be stopped, especially not after everything he thinks he has done, and not now that he knows what he really is.”_

He really, _really_ wanted to pretend he didn’t hear that.

But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

“There has to be some way…” Dream almost whispered, rubbing the tears off even though he knew they would just keep falling. “It can’t… I don’t want it to be like this…” He looked up again, just in time to see more flashes of light of distant thunder; his expression was pleading, but he knew he couldn’t afford to have high hopes for what would happen from the on. “C-can’t we at least t-try…?”

Silence and a pitying look was the only answer he could be given, and he had to stop and realize that Nightmare wouldn’t be quite willing to do anything just yet. He would need time, lots of it, but they simply could not afford that much. “I can’t let it be this way… T-there’s so much going on, we need to at least… knock some sense into him, he can’t just-“

And as he rambled on, one specific thought crossed his mind.

Just like that, in a split second, something he had completely forgotten came rushing back in like an unforgiving gale.

“And… and t- _the bond_ , w-we forgot- he can’t, _we_ -“

_“There is no bond.”_

His panic stopped as fast as that sudden memory had come to stay, completely replaced by confusion that somehow managed to push past all the forceful sorrow to be his main focus. “W-what…?”

Well, that was another thing they didn’t know.

_“You are no longer linked, and you will never be again. When that bond breaks, it remains broken forever, no matter what. Just like what happened to me and Lanny. We shared that same link with the trees, our life was connected to them and thus we were able to perceive any danger near them. This link, too, is broken, and we will never have it back, which is why I never knew Nightmare was in danger until he told me what happened. It is not a hazard for you, though.”_

…that was as relieving as it was frightening.

Because he wouldn’t disappear too if Nightmare got any ideas before he could talk it out with him, but he would have no idea he even had a brother if he was too late.

It sent shivers down his spine.

“Oh…”

The rain began to pick up, the still distant thunder echoing across in an aerial earthquake. The flashes above were certainly closer, and Dream couldn’t help recoiling.

He couldn’t help holding on to his cape.

He couldn’t help remembering the night he got it, during a storm, beside the Tree. He couldn’t help remembering the night his brother gave it to him, one of the last times he saw him smile honestly, one of the last times he saw what he should have been, _it would protect him from everything._

Those silent tears wouldn’t stop.

_“…Dream, I just want you to be happy, but I cannot dictate your life. You are irremediably different from everyone else, and even I cannot help you that much. Whatever it is you want to do next, it is entirely up to you and your brother. His mind does not see the same things yours does, and you cannot change that. This is who he is now, and you have to help him according to how he sees the world. I will always be there for you, for you both… but this is not as up to me as it is to you, and you need to understand that.”_

He didn’t know if he did. He didn’t know if he wanted to.

A relatively loud clap of thunder growled in the sky, and the rain began to pick up faster.

_“…you should head back. Right now… he needs you more than he needs me.”_

At that point, Dream could only sigh and nod. It was difficult enough as it was to take in all that information and accept it; it would be better for him if he allowed himself to calm down and be the older brother he had to be until things settled.

_If_ things settled.

And as he wordlessly stood to leave, not before stalling, and pondering, more thunder reverberated through his whole body, more silent lights illuminated the dark area, and he took a single, hesitant step back toward the village, fearing the future more than he had ever feared anything.

_“Dream.”_

He stopped, looked back, still silent.

_“…no matter what happens, do not stand against Quetzalcoatl or that human friend of his if you see them again. This is not something you or anyone else aside from me and Lanny can handle, and I want all of you out of this. No matter who is being attacked, in case they come back, do_ not _fight them, or let anyone else do so. This is the one time you have to see past who you are now. Always come to me. Understand?”_

It wasn’t a request, it was an order, stern yet surrounded by genuine care Dream could not mistake, but it still made him feel utterly useless.

He _should_ have been able to fight back.

He was just tired of things always going wrong, of problems piling up without mercy until chaos was at everyone’s doors without plans to leave. He wanted things to go right, for everyone, for just once.

That was why that afterlife was a place for redemption.

That was what it was meant to be, right?

…Quetzalcoatl did say it was _his_ world… and that was more ominous than anything else.

“…I understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i know, not much is happening yet, but we've already got all the angst settled in; from this point on, everything is finally gonna go downhill, downhill and more downhill. D:


	11. Cope in The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His breaths came in and out at an even faster pace as he turned around and readied himself to make a desperate run for it. He felt so cold, so numb, and he really wished he would still be sleeping and facing those specters and that thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update already? what is this sorcery
> 
> and nothing better than to start up with a creepy chapter to set the halloween mood, huh

_He was standing in the middle of the village._

_The question was..._ why _was he standing in the middle of the village?_

_At night?_

_Alone?_

_How long had he been there? Had he not been in the cave just a second ago? Where was Dream? Where was_ everyone _for that matter? Considering the general darkness, it had to be pretty late, and it wasn't likely many people would still be prancing around… but everything felt way too eerily quiet, like a ghost town._

 _Not a single light in any of the houses was on, only the calming, yellow glow of the candles in the cave dancing against the rock walls, and that actually was the_ only _light around, he realized. Not like he would remember how many lights were on each and every night; he wasn't usually wandering about or even awake to find out, but he wouldn't deny it was creepy._

 _The glow of the candles called him in, allured him into the cave's solitude and warmth, but he couldn't help but wonder why things were_ so _quiet. Normally, even a couple people would be strolling around, or beings from other universes would still be heard talking in the midst of the night even if they weren't directly in the village, but it was so silent even the flutter of a mosquito's wings would be heard. The air was completely still._

 _He felt utterly alone._ _Not like that was_ bad _, but…_

 _It was really strange, but it was weirder for him to be out there on his own for no particular reason, especially because he didn’t even know why. It was like he had blinked and next thing he knew he was there. Had he been sleepwalking or something? How embarrassing... And that was why he chose to just walk back to the cave with a ponderous hum, after deciding such eerie quiet maybe wasn't_ that _odd since he didn't even know how late it was. Maybe he was just imagining things..._

_"Hey, look."_

_He stopped, looking at one side then the other. It wasn't a voice he could recognize, in fact it sounded like a bizarre whisper, but he lived amongst thousands of people most of which he hadn't met yet, and he didn't even know all the distinct voices of the villagers; some random voice was nothing to be worried about, and at least he knew the place wasn't completely desolate. He really must have been sleepwalking, or maybe had just decided to take some fresh air while half-asleep and forgot. Everything was seemingly normal…_

_Except the person who spoke, whom he realized was to his left, leaning against one of the houses… didn't exactly have any defining traits, and for that he took a confused step back when their gazes met._

_Or, when his gaze met that_ eyeless _face._

_For a second, he thought it was so dark he just couldn't see any traits, but no, it definitely wasn't that, and he only needed a small squint to realize that whoever that was was literally a silhouette come to life, and he seriously began to question his imagination and sanity; he blinked a few times, frowned, and actually considered slapping himself back into reality._

_It had the general shape of a human, but was completely black, from head to toe. It had no face, no hair or ears or anything of the sort for that matter, nothing defining, and it seemed like the blackness of its body was coated by light static, like some glitch right out of a faulty videogame._

_"It's the little freak. How adorable."_

_He took another step back, seriously confused, and hesitantly decided to go on his way and completely ignore that, hoping he hadn't gone bonkers. Even its voice creeped him out, and it was obvious he wasn't precisely wanted – what a surprise, – so he had no business there. He didn't know who that was supposed to be, but he wasn't pleased to make its acquaintance._

_"Yeah. Probably feels more like one now that he knows."_

_There was another dark, static silhouette, identical to the first one, nonchalantly sitting on the roof of the adjacent house, looking at him with mocking disdain despite not having a face; he just_ felt _that non-existent glare boring into him._

_He momentarily stopped to look at it as well, trying to decipher its messed up reality, before trying to continue on walking until yet another dark figure ambled from behind the house the first one was leaning against._

_"Uh-huh, just a little failure..."_

_All three laughed, and Nightmare didn't quite like how they were kind of in his way back to the cave, but the fact that they obviously did not want to be friends and he had no one to back him up threatened to render his legs motionless as his hypothetical heart began to pound in his chest. He backed away from them, no sudden moves, yet as firmly as he could, despite feeling that unbearable fear creeping up on him like a colony of spiders, he glared at them with as much defiance as he could muster, "Who are you? What do you even want?"_

_"Aww, look, the tiny little empty skeleton is trying to be brave..."_

_"Don't lie you pathetic crybaby, you're meant to be afraid, so be afraid."_

_"Broken failures like you have no place in this world..."_

_Their voices began to distort into static, frightening whispers, and that was all it took for Nightmare to lose what little confidence he had and cower away from them, walking in the opposite direction in hopes of managing to just walk around them and forget about it. At that point he only wanted to go to the cave to check if Dream was in there; if not, he was_ out  _of that place, and he didn't care if he had to travel through the darkness until he was back to the Tree._

_But much to his dismay, there were two more silhouettes behind him, and he stopped dead on his tracks before he could even get a chance to walk away; not fear, but sheer terror was fluttering through his bones._

_"Where are you going? Too weak to handle the truth?" the two spoke in unison, one voice higher pitched, the other lower, the result ending in a nerve-wracking disharmony that sent shivers through every part of his body._

_He was panicking._

_"What do you want? H-how do you know that...?!"_

"We've always known."

 _His gaze darted around in a frenzy, noticing how more and more dark figures began emerging from_ everywhere _; out of the darkness, from behind the houses, from inside, crawling down from the roofs... and they were all surrounding him, multiplying by the second, closing in, scoffing, laughing, leaving no way out, and before he could even tell he was encircled by those beings._

 _"We knew what you were and_ you _didn't. How pathetic is that?"_

_"Not even your own mother trusted you."_

_"Failure."_

_"You never were anything, and you will never_ be _anything."_

_"You're both a disgrace."_

_"You don't deserve an afterlife."_

_Their voices mixed together in a chaos as white smiles began to paint their faces, wide from ear to ear, and his breathing picked up until he found himself hyperventilating, trying to find just the slightest breach between their dark bodies, but they were intent on not letting him escape._

_The sound of static grew until it almost overcame the many hateful voices insulting and laughing at him, and he couldn't take it, and he kept shrieking at them to stop and go away, but they wouldn't listen, they would keep advancing, laughing,_ reminding _him, and his legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees in tears, throwing his hands over his skull, clenching his watering eyes shut, begging for them to stop, but they just wouldn't, they kept laughing, laughing, **laughing**..._

_"That's enough... That's enough... THAT'S ENOUGH!"_

_He sprang to his feet in a rush of adrenaline and pushed his way past them, miraculously managing to shove them aside despite being relatively smaller and definitely lighter than them, and he couldn't help but notice how_ cold _their entire bodies were, almost as if they were the silhouettes of corpses. Not daring to look back, he frantically ran to the cave, hoping,_ praying _Dream would be there._

_"DREAM! DREAM, WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE! THESE PEOPLE–"_

_He skidded to a stop at the entrance._

_Empty._

_The entire world around him skipped a beat, and it wasn't until at least a couple of eternal seconds passed by that he realized everything in the cave had been_ destroyed _. The drawings they'd made were gone, some of them torn up; the mobile had fallen down, the suns and moons reduced to shards despite being made out of metal; his diary had been burnt by the candle that rested next to it, toppled over, with many of its pages ripped to pieces._

_Everything was a disaster, and he hated that his first instinct was to look for dust or even blood and make sure nothing had happened to his brother, because nothing made sense–_

_"It's okay, brother."_

_All the candles blew out of existence at the mere sound of Dream's voice, but Nightmare wasn't going to question that, he wasn't going to question_  anything _anymore, especially not when he felt his sibling’s hand on his shoulder and could rest assured Dream was fine…_

_…but he couldn't even heave a sigh of relief as he turned around to face his brother and savior, he couldn't smile at him or hug him when he fully turned around simply for the fact that he was alive and he was there with him, because he jumped back with a brief yet shocked shriek instead, almost stumbling over._

_It was Dream, yes._ _Except his eyes were completely empty, dark sockets that held no describable emotion; his body was limp, barely managing to stand upright, like a puppet only held up by strings; his head was eerily tilted to the side, smiling at him in a way that was anything but reassuring._

_"What the-" Nightmare could barely even articulate, even speak anymore, overtaken by fearful confusion and terror and shock. "D-Dream…?"_

_"We are nothing. You should not be ashamed of that. We are empty. We are nothing. This is who we are."_

_He took another step back, wincing when he stepped on the impossibly broken shards of metal that once belonged to something he adored. That sounded_ nothing _like Dream. His voice was completely monotonous, as lifeless as he looked, and he couldn't describe how much that sound hurt him._

 _Behind Dream, or what he thought was Dream,_ whoever  _that was supposed to be, all those dark shapes advanced, still grinning with uncanny white curves for smiles, like an army of specters, and Nightmare couldn't even say anything anymore; he could only stand there, petrified, as strained stutters came out of him helplessly._

_"Embrace the emptiness, Nightmare. We are empty. We are not meant to be anything. We are nothing. Nothing but puppets. Our minds are broken. We are broken. We can only be puppets. We are too tractable. Meant to be manipulated. We are nothing else. This is who we are. This is who you are."_

_"This is who you are."_

_"Th͠i̵s is ̢w͝h͘o ̵y̵ou̧ a̷r̶e.̡"̀_

_All those silhouettes joined in, and the chant didn't stop, growing louder each second that went by, and they kept advancing on him, and he kept backing away and weeping until his back hit the hard, cold wall, and he could only sink down and cover his face and cry, and the chant continued, and_ continued _, and_ **continued** _, and came closer, and_ closer _, and something cold, a hand, cupped his cheekbone as he recoiled._

**_"This is who we are."_ **

_The hand, gentle yet filled with only malice, hatred, forced him to look up, and his expression morphed into indescribable terror._

_He saw black, he saw a single eye, he saw a perennial grin, he saw all those figures dead and bleeding on the ground and Dream ensnared by black tendrils that threatened to crush him-_

* * *

He sprang upright with a shriek, gasping.

His eyes flew open at the speed of light, and even the allaying glow of the candles hurt his eyes, but he simply couldn't blink.

Instinctively, the first things he saw were all the souvenirs that decorated the cave, and they were all fine. Almost gasping for breath, he checked each and every single one of them. The mobile was still hanging by the stalactites, intact, gently swaying; the drawings were neatly piled up, untouched; his diary rested unharmed by the lit candle, not a single page missing. It was raining outside but even through the mist he could see some lights from the windows of the closest houses.

And Dream was next to him, submerged in a deep sleep, though clearly having troubles of his own if his tense stance and quivering eyes said anything. Probably going through yet another night terror considering he was sleeping profoundly enough not to have heard the commotion right beside him.

Everything was  _fine._

Nightmare let out a long, trembling exhale as he leaned back against the rocky wall like a deflating balloon, focusing on calming his own breathing down, closing his eyes in search for some inner peace. He was sweating and tears danced in his eyes, and it took him long enough to even realize the blurriness in his vision. He noticed how numb his entire body was as he rubbed them off, also realizing he was trembling like maraca.

The unexpected growl of thunder outside made him jump with a suppressed gasp, and it was only then he started to remember what had happened probably a few hours ago.

Focus, focus… Dream had come back, explained him a few things he wasn't too happy to hear, and then both of them fell asleep to the sound of the pounding rain, which had relatively calmed down since Dream returned, but was still falling with force. Nothing he'd seen was real, it was just… just a little nightmare.

That was the kind of thing Dream had been seeing for years because of him, no big deal…

He… he deserved that…

There was no denying it, it _couldn't_ have been any normal, passing hallucination. Everything had felt so real despite being so… surreal, and it was taking a toll on him. He couldn't stop shaking, he couldn't get rid of the lurking tears, he couldn't stop the numbness, he couldn't… he couldn't stop seeing that face, the face of that  _thing_ , and that  _wasn't him_ -

He sighed again, deeply, as if he would be letting go of all those thoughts.

If only things were that easy…

His tired eyes instinctively wandered to the swaying mobile, and even though it wasn't moving enough to make that audible melody he loved, it still moved enough to create the softest of clinking noises even through the rain outside, and he let both sounds combined ease him into reality. It wasn't helping as much as he would have liked to, but at least he had that…

He needed some fresh air.

Without thinking about it too much, he stood up, and he realized just how strong that nightmare had been mostly because he even felt the echoes of a headache. He couldn't help but fear that those same figures of people would emerge from the darkness outside, but at least he knew his brother was fine, and that the village was unarguably inhabited. He didn't have reasons to be as terrified… but deep down, he still was.

He waited for a few seconds, hoping that his headache wouldn't escalate, giving time for his entire body to stop shaking. He glanced at Dream, and even though he was clearly not sleeping peacefully, he still wasn't seeing things as terrifying as what he had gone through.

Good. He was the one who deserved that kind of visions, not his brother.

He knew it wouldn't be a good idea to wake him up all of a sudden, so he let him sleep; he certainly was not tired anymore, and feared he wouldn't be for quite a while. For the time being, he just needed a few minutes outside, even if it was raining. Perhaps that would make it better, he didn't mind the pouring water unless it was something exaggerated, and it wasn't even raining that much.

Despite the thunder, he still tried to be silent as he walked outside, inevitably stopping to glance at the old book.

…he didn't know what to think of it anymore.

Leaving that aside, he stepped outside only to feel a sudden wave of cold air, but it only bothered him for a split second. He squinted at the frantic drops of water against his skull, but grew used to it soon enough. He only wanted a few minutes out there, thinking and calming himself down, just like going to the canyon. He wouldn't stray away from the village, he just needed a moment away from the cave's eventual lack of space, and for that he only had to take a small walk to a circle of boulders some people had made up. For what, exactly, he wasn't sure.

He sat down on one of the largest boulders of the circle, fortunately plain enough to serve as a decent seat, and just stood there until he would feel like it was time to go, either because he was no longer comfortable out there or because he felt tired again, which he doubted.

He couldn't help but wonder if that nightmare had been trying to tell him something. It looked a lot like his mind, that was for sure. Those dark figures were what he thought of the villagers, a mindset he had almost completely gained back; Dream was how he thought of himself, what they had been turned into by reality; but that thing…  _it_  had no right to be there…

He shook his head. He didn't want to think about that anymore. Those things didn’t always signify something; it had happened, it was done, there was nothing to worry about.

...that was what he would like to believe, anyway. There was not a single thing right with him. What was he supposed to think when every single one of the thoughts that had been weighing him down turned out to be nothing but the truth? And an even worse truth than he had envisioned, too. Useless wasn't even a word fit to describe him anymore; he was  _beyond_  useless, all kinds of useless mixed into one, the disappointment of disappointments…

He still remembered when he finally agreed to help himself. It felt like a long time ago even though it had happened that same day. It was funny to think that even despite how confident he’d been about it, it wouldn't have done any good at all. All their secrets would have had to be unveiled anyway, and just as he’d have thought he had finally found some kind of purpose… it would had been torn to pieces in front of his very eyes by the treacherous hands of the truth.

He never had a chance… and he blindly believed he did without overthinking it. That should be enough proof he was not functional at all.

Lightly, he tapped his heels against the boulder almost rhythmically, the soft taps muted by the melody of the rain against the ground. He actually shouldn't be worried at all, should he? He was what he had always thought he was, so why should he be so anxious about it? Was it the fact that he had actually changed his mind for a split second? It was just a passing thought, he would have never been able to be anything else…

He didn't know what to do anymore. If he was bound to be afraid, to remain overwhelmed by whatever little thing for the rest of his life, unable to receive any help, hated by himself… then he didn't want to be alive at all, especially because he would never die unless… _something_ happened… but after the brief conversation he'd had with Dream after he came back, he became stuck once again.

He was sure that one talk was one he would remember until the end of days…

_Dream was trying his best not to start crying again, and he could easily see that. He wanted to remain strong, remain confident, but it was hard and harsh to do so, especially because Nightmare had not once looked directly at him since he came back. His eyes, half-lidded, never showed true interest; his pupils told a million stories, and not a single one of them was happy._

_"Nightmare, please… you have to promise me you won't give up… I can't-… I can't lose you any more than this…"_

_He still couldn't make eye contact. He just couldn't, and he would not be able to say he was sure why. He just blinked, softly inhaled, looked away, sighed._

_"…I can't promise you that."_

He was still afraid because Dream had remained silent after that. He hadn't tried to keep talking to him in any way, just… let it go. He hadn't entirely liked that… but sorrow's exhaustion beat him and he didn't say anything either as he fell asleep. He was sure he should have worded everything a different way, but had been completely unwilling to cooperate.

He still couldn't do anything other than brood.

Instead, he decided to just focus on the world around him instead. That was what he really wanted; gaze at nothing in particular yet at everything at the same time as the storm went on, illuminating the sky with flashes of white and the rare, full-fledged lightning strike peeking from above.

It was obvious why there would be no one outside, no one but him, and he wondered if that too was why he could not fit in at all. Stormy nights didn't normally signify anything good despite their inner beauty, yet he felt so attracted to it, not caring about the cold water, the chilling air or the loud noises. No one else seemed to think the same, and he lived amongst countless people. That had to say a lot about his persona... if he had one.

He didn't… did he?

He looked in the general direction of the village, relieved at seeing some lights turned on and shapes coming and going across the illuminated windows. It was a relaxing sight, really... but he would definitely think twice about trying to make amends with those people.

He was a little confused when he saw the silhouette of an umbrella on top of one of the houses, realizing it was the living sketch of one made by Ink who happened to be sleeping beneath it. Knowing him, Nightmare wouldn't ask himself why he had chosen that as a sleeping spot; certain monochromatic people must have kicked him out of his little hideout again.

He was enticed by the darkened grass as it waved with the ever so gentle breeze, and he was glad the powerful wind from before hadn't chosen to stay otherwise he wouldn't have been able to stay there.

He subconsciously looked up at the sky in search for glittering stars, but it was coated in clouds equally as dark. No matter... he knew it would be yet another moonless night, anyway. He had never stopped wondering why there was no moon in that place... Was it really telling him he didn't belong there? He would believe it if that was the case.

His gaze fell upon the way back to the Tree, and that was where it lingered.

...thus far, he had said a lot of things he shouldn't have, and worded everything in a way he did not want to do so. He was well aware his pitiful existence wasn't his mother's fault. He knew she never meant them any harm and had all the right reasons to think they would never be anything on their own. He didn't _hate_ her... he'd just... _exploded_. He had never felt so overwhelmed by his own negativity, and ignoring it or lying or keeping it all to himself just wouldn't work, and he had been forced to let it out without care.

He was harmful, wasn’t he?

He was still shaken. That probably was the reason why he hadn't spoken to Dream despite him being so understandably worried about him. He feared he would just hurt him with all those negative mindsets, but they were all he could afford. He was _meant_ to live with them, after all...

...maybe he should go back to the Tree. He was the only one who had to remain afflicted, because it was just his nature, and that was unarguable; no one else deserved that, especially not the only family he had, and they had left things on a very bad note. He should just apologize and make sure his reaction hadn't hurt anyone else. He really would not be able to live with that.

...maybe he shouldn't. Maybe he would just make things worse by prying in. Maybe, just like he was letting himself relax, he had to let the others relax and think things through on their own too. A part of him really sought his mother's company, but he could not be sure it would be a good idea to go around wandering on his own, especially with those two lurking.

That was what was wrong with him. He couldn't make choices. His mind was always going back and forth, a turbulence of thoughts, a rollercoaster stuck on a vertiginous loop; he could very rarely decide things himself, he always needed others to make choices for him otherwise he would always think he was wrong.

He was such a mess. Such an annoying, unfixable mess.

He didn't know how long he had been outside until he finally made up his mind to stay with Dream and sort things out once everyone had been given enough time to focus, however long that might be. He didn't want him to wake up and see him gone; since it had become clear he didn't feel like sleeping again, it would be best if he patiently waited until his brother woke up, in case he came back to reality panicking and whatnot, just like he had. He couldn't help but overthinking it, that clingy pessimistic side of him telling him Dream could've woken up already and was frightfully looking for him.

He preferred not to dwell on it, otherwise he would keep changing his mind and finding new pros and cons each second.

He hopped off the boulder as a roll of thunder rumbled in unison to a mesmerizing lightning bolt surging through the clouds, and he couldn't help one last glance at the Tree's general direction before going back to the cave.

He didn't want Nim to think he wasn't sorry... He just hoped she understood how grim things looked for him.

And speaking of grim, of course, as he turned around, head low, to go back to the cave, he was met with the sight of something that wasn't there before. Something white, and he normally wouldn't have paid much attention had it not been for the fact that he knew exactly _who_ that was when he glanced up.

He reeled back.

Because of all people he could encounter for whatever reason, the one to cross paths with him, the one to find him in the middle of the night, alone and with everyone else sleeping or taking cover, just had to be Kamea.

It took his mind a moment to process that, and as fear and panic took over, everything within him simply shut down; instead of running, instead of even remembering Ink was out there and would be perfectly able to hear and most importantly help him, he haplessly froze.

It didn't help that Kamea was smirking. "Hello."

Nightmare could barely stutter something unintelligible, unable to even back away. He was as tense as could be, and the only movement he was really capable of was of darting his eyes between the human and the cave behind him; he was standing in his path, and there was no way he was running past him. Not like that would be a good idea anyway – he was _not_ going to put Dream in danger, especially considering he would try to fight back if his safety was at stake.

"Going somewhere, little guy?"

His breath hitched as he tried to do something, but he couldn't focus, he didn't know what to do; he could only muster a pitiful squeak, what was supposed to be a no.

He forgot about Ink, he forgot about the villagers, he could only think that he was going to die, he couldn't escape, _he was going to die_ , or probably something _worse_ – they needed him, didn't they? They wouldn't kill him, but they would take him away, they could hurt him– _what was he supposed to do?_

"No? So what are you doing out here all alone? You are... pretty far from your mommy, aren't you...? Don't you know it's dangerous?"

Nightmare shrunk, frantic, his breathing picking up as he thought of the only possible solution; he had forgotten absolutely everything except for the fact that Dream was safe and what Nim had told him about facing any of the two sickos. He wasn't sure he would make it all the way over there even though he had managed to outrun Kamea last time, but if he wasn't going to rightfully die then he would take his chances.

He gained back control over his body and took miniscule steps back, pretending he wasn't going to bolt and make a run for his life at any moment, shaking as much as he had when he woke up from that hell, and he was questioning if he would prefer that over facing someone that was very real, and very dangerous.

"I'm- I'm-... I'm g-g-going h-home now..." he stuttered, barely able to keep his composure. He couldn't raise his voice above a frightened murmur; he knew he would not be able to even call for help.

Either way, he knew he was in some serious trouble. Ink was the only one in his vicinity that could grant him some help, but he knew Kamea was a serious threat and he didn't want to put more lives at risk for the sake of his worthless own; he had nearly killed Ink in the blink of an eye, after all, though it had been a surprise attack.

His breaths came in and out at an even faster pace as he turned around and readied himself to make a desperate run for it. He felt so cold, so numb, and he really wished he would still be sleeping and facing those specters and _that thing._

That was when a hand grabbed the back of his collar and easily hauled him up, and he could only let out a terrified gasp as his feet left the ground. It was like he'd lost all air as he tried to free himself, breathlessly pleading, and as he had predicted, he didn't have enough voice left to cause enough of a commotion for anyone to realize he was in danger; fear had completely overcome him.

"W-what are you doing...?! L-let me go...! P-please, I just want to go h-home...!"

He was in tears before he could even realize, but his terror wasn't pitied. "None of that now," Kamea tutted, like one would in an attempt to calm down a distressed child; in that case, he only managed the exact opposite. "You are going home... but to a better one, instead. Trust me, you'll soon forget these fools..."

A laugh echoed through the rain, through the thunder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> we're officially on our way to hell, people


	12. The Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't care." Dream spat, shaking with fear and yet refusing to let it consume him. "I don't care who you are, I don't care what you want. I only want you away from my brother. Away from us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short-ish chapter this time, welp  
> i'm not entirely proud of this for some reason. ¯\\_(u.u)_/¯

Everything was a blur. All sound felt muffled; white noise.

His entire world spun wildly, tears cascading down his eyes as he feebly writhed – trying to free himself, knowing he was being taken away, lightly choking due to the pressure of his collar, being unable to say anything,  _realizing he would probably never see his brother again_ ; he couldn't take it all, and even his own fear hurt, the chills all through his body feeling like hundreds of fiery needles piercing him.

Erasing himself from the world as to not cause anyone more trouble than he already had and relieving himself of a pitiful life with no one to remember him was one thing; being kidnapped without anyone knowing and put under the custody of two hostile beings with malicious intent that had threatened to 'weaponize' him and his brother was  _another,_ very  _different_ thing, and he did  _not_  want anything to do with that.

"So, let's be on our way, mh?"

He didn't know how or why, but true panic struck with full force at that very moment, a sudden impulse to keep himself safe and  _alive_ as Kamea turned away from the Tree and the cave and the village and everything that could save him from a fate surely worse than death in the direction of the cliff, a  _desolate_  place where barely  _anyone_  ever ventured to and would surely be  _empty_  considering the storm, and that was when he found his voice again.

"H-help...! Someone please HELP ME!"

He internally panicked even more than he already was when Kamea momentarily stopped walking, probably on his way to shut him up before anyone realized what was happening, but he just didn't want to be taken away, he didn't want to put anyone in danger, he didn't want to-

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

It was after a tearful shriek of unknown origin when something, a blur in his eyes, rammed against the human with enough force and speed to make him lurch and, most importantly, let go of him.

He toppled to the ground in a daze, coughing as the pressure against his neck was relieved. The rain and the light of the thunder above were like curtains to him; he barely even knew where he was as he tried to stagger to his feet in the midst of all the panic and adrenaline that fueled and confused his mind and body, but there was one thing he did know, and it was that he had never been so _terrified_  in his life.

But even that voracious horror was pushed away by relief when he realized he was free, he was free to move and escape and  _get the hell out of there_ , and even more so when he realized the one who had saved him had been Dream. When he'd woken up, he had no idea, but he simply couldn't afford to care about a detail as relatively minor as that.

Until he put two and two together and realized  _both of them_ were in danger.

"Go, go,  _go_!"

He was still too confused and appalled and shaken to even register that it was Dream who was pushing him to his feet and desperately trying to get him to move, to  _run_ , and through the corner of his eyes he saw Kamea regain his balance as he drew out the dagger with a telltale glare directed at his brother – he most definitely was not happy about the interception.

There really had to be something off about him if the eerie way his bicolored eyes glowed in the dark was any hint of it.

Common sense came rushing back to him, still, and he  _ran_. He didn't know where exactly he was going; he just wanted to get away from that human, and he stumbled to his feet as Dream dragged him along and  _ran_  like everything depended on it.

And certainly, it did.

Dream didn't even know Ink was nearby, and Nightmare was still too focused on running and escaping to remember, otherwise the two of them would have rather called his attention in an attempt not to be so utterly unprotected until they reached the Tree. Truthfully, none of the two were sure they would even make it, and one of their few chances was to hope Lanny was still wandering about close enough.

All they knew was that they had to keep moving. Dream was looking behind him, confused as to why Kamea was not really making any notable attempt at following them straight away, not rushing after them but instead pacing as if he was sure he would somehow be faster than them that way, but that definitely was not a reason for him to stop.

What  _was_  a reason for him to stop was Nightmare skidding to a halt all of a sudden, and as he tried not to stumble over him and looked up, he almost threw himself back as a burst of fear coursed through his body in the form of unbearable chills.

As if their luck could not be any better, Quetzalcoatl joined in as well. Blocking their way. Staring intently at them. Holding a glowing scepter.

The humanoid gave the two of them a sharp-fanged smile after a tongue flick, thunder growling at his presence as his tail rattled unsettlingly among the raindrops. "Greetings, little  _coconeh_."

To say Nightmare was tense was an understatement, and Dream noticed right away. Therefore, he realized he wasn't going anywhere anymore; he had stopped so harshly and urgently that he'd fallen on his rear, and that was when fear paralyzed him like a veil of ice freezing his entire body. He wasn’t making any attempt to get back up and continue running, and he was no longer going to do so. So Dream didn’t either.

Not like there was much else to do, considering Kamea was still behind them. They had no safe escape routes; it would be too risky to try and keep running away.

Dream understood perfectly well why Nim had told him not to ever confront those two… but he hadn't foreseen such situation, predictable as it could have been if they were notable targets to them, and his only choice was to stand up for his brother even if he was risking his life in doing so until something or someone got them out of that plight. Nightmare most definitely was not moving from there no matter how urgently he could push him to his feet again, and it wasn't something Dream could blame him for; just like he couldn't control his urge to help, Nightmare couldn't stop a breakdown when things looked grim enough. It was natural for him to just freeze in the face of inescapable doom.

Dream hated to admit it, but a quick glance at their surroundings told him they were done for if a miracle didn't occur in the next few minutes, or less. They were straight in the middle of the path between the Tree and the village, still too far for Nim or anyone around her to see them, and too far for anyone in the village to even hear them, especially with the rain as it seemed to gain momentum by the second; it was a pretty tight situation, and the only way they would get out of there the easy way was if someone walked by and realized they were in serious trouble. Not like just _anyone_ could help them, though, as neither Quetzalcoatl nor Kamea seemed like they would be easy to talk some sense into and much less drive away, and even trying to get their attention could be fatal for whoever was empathetic enough to meddle in.

But Dream was still going to protect his brother at all costs if they couldn't get away from danger. He didn't know what exactly he would do, but fate could throw everything it wanted at him and more – he was _not_ leaving his side. He had no idea what Quetzalcoatl wanted them for, but nothing good could be roaming his mind and Dream was not about to wait around and see what his intentions were first-hand; even he knew that was not the time to solve things with a few words.

Despite focused on the guardian, his eyes still darted around in search for anyone who could be fast enough to go get help or, better yet, help them straight away. It wasn’t precisely easy to locate any silhouettes roaming about, but his gaze was sharp as fear and the instinct to stay alive settled in.

It didn't look like such miracle was near, though.

"I did not expect you to be bold enough to come rushing in to the rescue this time," Quetzalcoatl drawled, mildly amused by Dream's presence in the ordeal. The skeleton was still wary of the _other_ threat pacing behind them, but he refused to back down despite being on the absolute losing end. "Not anymore, at least. Seems like not even the truth can deter you, huh? Since we are talking about _you_ , I cannot call that anything other than confusion."

Dream stood protectively over his still frozen brother, never losing the hope of seeing someone around. Unarguably, he was fast, and Nightmare could be fast too if he wanted to; he was still considering making another run for it, despite his paralyzed brother. Maybe he would snap out of it with enough urge, but it was a hazardous maneuver that could go mildly right or very, _very_ wrong. "I'm protecting my family. I'm not the one who's confused. What would _you_ know about that?"

Dream really couldn't help the hateful tone, but he was _tired_ , he was tired of problems and tired of people suffering. It was not something that was supposed to happen there, ever, and he couldn’t care less if Quetzalcoatl was supposedly the creator of that world. Nightmare still hadn't had a chance to be happy, and he was most definitely not going to let _anyone_ ruin that chance more than it had already been ruined. The echoes of hatred seemed odd to him, but he accepted them. Perhaps Quetzalcoatl and even Kamea had reasonable sides deep within, but that was not the time to figure it out, and he would treat them like the wrongdoers they were.

He was mildly afraid of what kind of reaction his recklessness could bring out of the guardian, but Quetzalcoatl only seemed genuinely amused by his resolve, vaguely showing so with a vile smile.

"You should watch that tone," came the jeering voice of the human behind them, and Dream immediately whirled around to face him. Kamea paced around them like a meticulous wolf calculating the perfect moment to pounce, and Nightmare shrunk as he felt his eerie gaze boring into him. "I don't think anyone needs to remind you who you're talking to here."

"I don't care." Dream spat, shaking with fear and yet refusing to let it consume him. "I don't care who you are, I don't care what you want. I only want you away from my brother. Away from  _us_."

Quetzalcoatl chuckled under his breath. "And what are you going to do? Hug me to death?"

Dream scowled at him in defiance, but hesitated soon after.

Well, that was in fact a good question. Dream knew he couldn't do anything by himself. If they wanted Nightmare, they could just shove him out of the way and take him. If they wanted the two of them, it would be easy to take them both and they would have no chance to fight back. Dream knew he was strong, soul or no soul, but he doubted he could ever match the strength of a guardian. He could have a chance against Kamea alone, but not the two of them.

That was exactly what bothered Dream the most.

"Now," Quetzalcoatl pounded the staff again the ground commandingly, just enough to gain back all of Dream's attention. Nightmare all but jumped at the relatively small sound. "Quit making a fool of yourself, little  _conetl_. We don't want you just yet, only your poor excuse of a brother. Step aside."

Dream straightened and glared at him, pretending not to be intimidated. He was, he really was, but at that point he didn't care. He had failed his brother many times, and that was not going to be one more added to the list; he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to him, no matter if it was something he could stop or not. "Make me."

The only time Nightmare looked anywhere but straight into the heterochromatic eyes of the guardian of life was then; his gaze snapped up at his brother with a mixture of confusion and admiration and concern and gratefulness, a jumbled mix of every describable emotion ever, but his body still could not react. He didn't know if to tell him to run instead of risking his life for him, he didn't know if to let him keep going, he didn’t know if to cry, if to hug him, if to take his chances and run.

Maybe it was a bluff, maybe it wasn't. Maybe Dream had a more thorough plan, maybe he just depended on luck.

But he was doing it for _him_ …

None of that would be happening if he didn't have the habit of being so hesitant and selfish. How could he have ever thought going out alone in the middle of the night with danger lurking in unknown corners would be a good idea…?!

Quetzalcoatl's eyes widened on the slightest in a display of uninterested intrigue, not having foreseen such bravery... if he could call it that. Kamea seemed mildly amused as well. "You sure are a unique critter. Irrational enough to think you stand a chance... It's so saddening I can't help but find it interesting. We could put that to good use eventually."

He paced closer to them, and Dream made sure to always face him – he couldn't afford to focus that much on Kamea, but he kept glancing behind him every once in a while just in case. Nightmare slowly pushed himself further behind him, whimpering ever so quietly, and that only strengthened his brother's instinct to protect him at all costs.

"Anywho... you might not want to test my patience." A nearby flash of lightning shone all throughout the plains as Quetzalcoatl stared them down with malicious eyes, tail rattling silently. "Now, step _aside_."

"Hey!"

Dream immediately searched for the source of a voice he couldn’t recognize straight away due to the pounding storm but that was equally as reassuring nevertheless, and it didn't take him long to spot the skeletal silhouette standing near the village, carrying something large in a defensive manner with a long cloth waving behind him.

"Ink...?!"

Human and guardian looked over to the third skeleton without much interest, like he was nothing but a pesky bug – a complete contrast to Dream and Nightmare who were both gazing at Ink like he was the unmistakable light at the end of a long, solitary, dark tunnel.

"What do you think you're doing, huh?" Ink scowled, a tight grip on his paintbrush as he readied himself for anything that could happen.

The short-lived disturbance as both skeletons ran away from the human had been just about enough to catch his attention. Blending in with the rain, the sound of the twins' fading footsteps had been too faint by the time he was fully awake, though, which was why he had checked the village and the cave first before venturing further and hadn't been there earlier.

He was certainly not half-asleep anymore, but fully ready to stop the world from becoming messed up all over again. He took all the warnings he had been given about the troublemaking duo to heart, which was why he was perfectly sure Lanny was still around somewhere, probably near the Tree; he only needed to distract those two and bolt straight back to civilization with the twins, and fortunately enough, he was better at distracting than he was at fighting. Though, if he had to battle it out, so be it – guardian or not, that guy and his human friend were not going to succeed if he could do something about it.

Quetzalcoatl still didn't seem faced by him, not on the slightest. He looked at him with an impassable glare, as if he was trying to be humorous but failed too miserably at it to even force a smile at his act. Not like Ink cared much about his reaction; it was Kamea he was most worried about, since he was the one more focused on him, advancing.

"They always have to make things difficult," the human chuckled, glancing at the guardian. "Don't they?"

Ink kept his concentrated gaze planted on the approaching human, not taking his eyes off the dagger, perfectly ready for the moment he attacked… which was why he didn't get the chance to see something cutting through the air with the attributes of an arrow. Something small, light, blending in with the general darkness, something apparently sharp that got embedded in his forearm, cutting through his sleeve like nothing.

It lasted a second, but he felt every bit of that sharp pang all across his arm as what felt like a dart made contact with him. He was unable to stop himself from flinching, his gaze snapping toward the source of the pinch which had already become an itchy sensation.

"What the-"

He looked at his arm, noticing the feather clinging to it, unmistakably the same kind of feather on the guardian’s headdress, and frowned at it. It tingled more than it should have, yes, but he found it utterly harmless; so much that he didn’t even bother plucking it out as he looked back at Quetzalcoatl. “That’s it? A feather? That’s your fighting method? And then people laugh at _me_ for fighting with a paintbrush.”

Ink laughed it off, advancing toward the two other skeletons. He wasn’t quite sure why neither guardian nor human were paying much attention to him yet, though. In fact, it looked like they were paying less and less attention to him, Kamea even sheathing the dagger as if everything was already done. Quetzalcoatl’s gaze followed his slow movements. “Anyway, let’s not make this a big production, okay? You’ve been caught, so you’re gonna leave, and we’re gonna–… we’re gonna…”

And as suddenly as that, he felt so, so, _so_ lethargic. He suddenly felt like he hadn't slept in _years_. His legs could barely support him, his eyes blinked wearily almost on their own, his arms lowered as his paintbrush seemed like it was made out of the heaviest material ever known; profuse fatigue took over him completely, and it wasn't long until he was almost swaying, unable to keep himself upright.

“Wow, okay, that’sss… _weird_ …” he slurred, failing miserably at fighting off the sleep yet still managing to pace a few more steps forth, miraculously not toppling over like some ragdoll.

"I-Ink...?" Dream was genuinely concerned for Ink's health at that point; Quetzalcoatl had all the traits of a snake and he feared those feathers somehow had some lethal poison on them, but even then he simply could not leave his brother's side.

“Heeey, doesn’t anyone else feel kinda funny…!” The skeleton teetered closer to them, seemingly trying to gain some distance on the guardian, but that urge to sleep was quickly becoming too strong.

"A-are you okay...?"

It took Ink a second to realize he was being talked to by a blob of bright colors, and he raised a dismissive hand in almost the right direction, wobbling. "'m fine, totally 'kay, just need to– g'night."

And just like that, he toppled over, falling into an instant deep sleep. Before Dream could make sure nothing worrying had happened to him, he too felt a fleeting sting on his back, sharp enough to make him jump; and immediately after, Nightmare felt it too, on his shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from lurching, trying to get away from the threat until he realized it was stuck to his shoulder.

They were the same feathers that had sent Ink into a profuse state of lethargy, but that drowsy feeling didn't let any of the other two skeletons realize that even though Nightmare had managed to pluck the feather off. It didn't do much.

It didn't take them long to start feeling sleep deprived, their entire bodies begging them to lie down and have some actually unneeded rest. Dream tried in vain to reach for the source of the itch right in the middle of his spine, but even a movement as small as that was too tiresome for him and his legs gave out soon after, his arms trying to stop him from falling.

He was so, _so_ tired...

No, he didn't _need_ sleep.

It was just a _trick_. He had to overcome it. He couldn't leave his brother unprotected.

But he was _so tired_. . .

No, no, _his brother_ -...

...so. . . tired. . .

Each time he wearily blinked, his eyes threatened to remain closed, and when they won the battle, he collapsed. It didn't take long for Nightmare to become submerged in a deep sleep as well after trying not to, knowing he would be in danger, knowing everything would be over if he succumbed, but eventually falling victim to fatigue.

The sudden silence, not counting the pounding rain and furious lightning and thunder, was interrupted by a disappointed tut by the guardian of life as he observed the trio of fallen skeletons, sleeping as deeply as if they weren't lying in the middle of a cold, worsening storm. "Everything always has to be so complicated. Nothing can be done easily anymore."

He sighed, showing a little smile as he took one of the small capsules hanging around the sharp, glowing crystal atop of his staff. "No matter. We finally have all we wanted."

"Could have done that from the beginning," Kamea muttered, picking Nightmare back up. Quetzalcoatl gave him and the sleeping skeletons a passive glance, capsule enclosed in a thoughtful fist.

"I hadn't expected the little one to meddle in like this. It would have been just as easy without him; it's just a matter of annoyance."

Kamea held back the urge to scoff. It was easy to grow tired of Quetzalcoatl’s habit to complicate things, but he was used enough to it, and he knew his plans would only delve further into a chaos only he would be able to comprehend the machinations of. "What about the other two?"

The guardian languidly stepped away from them, prompting Kamea to follow. "Leave them for now. Stubborn as they might be, they would only hinder us if we took them as well. I want to have everything ready first, and our beloved prince of negativity is all that’s left for completion..."

He grinned at the unconscious Ink and Dream as he turned around to face them, Kamea by his side with the sleeping Nightmare in his clutches. Quetzalcoatl threw the capsule to the ground, enveloping all three in a cloud of smoke.

" _Xicochican_..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translation for our feathery maniac
> 
> *coconeh: children  
> *conetl: child  
> *xicochican: you should sleep/may you sleep
> 
> i can't say any of these will be 100% right, but i'm trying my best. ^-^"


	13. Power of Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly, his entranced gaze looked up at a smirking Quetzalcoatl. Specifically, at the dark fruit he was deliberately holding out to him, like it was the most valuable treasure in the entire world, something people could and should die for.

She had an overall bad feeling.

It wasn't any mystery that it would be because of the imminent threats wandering around who-knew-where, hidden from sight and able to strike at any moment and do more damage than anyone could be prepared for, but it still bothered her more than it should. It wasn't just a bad feeling; it was a  _bad_  feeling, and she knew better than anyone not to ignore those, paranoid as they might be.

Nim gazed up at the overcast sky, not a single star yet to be seen through the mass of clouds. As if moonless nights were dark enough, that night it seemed like everything was a lightless tunnel, only the erratic lightning and thunder illuminating the landscape for a few seconds, and it didn't seem like the storm was going to let up anytime soon. The light emanating from the golden apples was of some help, but it was too mild; the general lack of illumination gave off a sinister feeling, especially with the lurking danger. It was like anything could come out of nowhere, at any given time.

She was paying close attention to everything that surrounded her for that very reason, unable to shake off the foreboding of being watched, the presage of something bad occurring at any moment around her if she lowered her guard for just a second; the slightest sound would startle her, even the rattling of the leaves and branches whenever a brief gust of cold wind would come through.

Nim tore her attention off the black mass the sky had become when she noticed a telltale dance of magenta sparkles illuminating the area for a moment, one that she recognized well enough not to raise any alarms, Lanny materializing in seconds after. She still looked understandably worried, and angered; her nerves were still frantic, and it was common knowledge that she wouldn't calm down anytime soon. It was the reason why she couldn't stay still, and the fact that was the third time she had teleported there proved so.

Equally as understandably, Nim wasn’t precisely happy about her constantly leaving her tree. Thus far, they had allowed their guard to go down after years of trust and after knowing the nature of people there, but the habit of leaving the trees unattended even for short periods of time was over; those two, Kamea at the very least, had been roaming that afterlife for thousands of years completely _unnoticed_. They could attack at any moment, before they even knew what had happened, and countless catastrophes could occur in the blink of an eye. Nim had decided they were _not_ leaving anymore, no matter the reason, but Lanny still hadn’t adapted to that. She couldn’t bring herself to stay still after what had happened to the multiverse in life; her need to protect the tree was what had stopped her from saving the multiverse as a whole.

 _"Lanny, what are you doing here again?"_  the dryad calmly asked as the elf immediately scanned her surroundings, attentive as was possible as she made her slow way closer to her.  _"You should be watching over the Yggdrasil, not wandering for hours on end."_

There was slight irritation lacing her voice, but Lanny was too focused on everything else to fully realize that. "The people of Reapertale can take care of that for now." she dismissively responded, glaring daggers into the environment, waiting to find something that would give her nervousness an even truer reason to rile up.

Nim could only frown at her statement; yes, everyone from Reapertale was strong, and yes, they were trustworthy, but it was a _very_ bold move to have them watch over the trees, especially when they were potentially at risk. Nim would personally never leave such task up to anyone, Lanny being the very unique exception, with or without inherent threats, and she really did not want to see her so far away from her tree even if it still was relatively protected.

"It's just... I can't stay still doing nothing while those-... those  _things_  are loose somewhere out there." Lanny admitted, losing that anxious and irate façade long enough to let her inner worry and fear shine through. "This is a giant place. There are people  _everywhere_ , in every corner. Those two are up to nothing good, and literally anyone could get hurt. I can't... stay away and protect only those around me. Not this time."

Nim couldn't help but give her a patient smile, unmistakably coated with inner concern.  _"I know you are worried. We all are. But you cannot risk so much, and leaving others no matter how strong they are to watch over the Tree is not a safe solution either. What if they find themselves in danger?"_

"I still check on them too, of course I'm not going to just leave them to their luck." The elf argued, though sounding less sure of herself. "No one is safe at this point. Which is why it would be better if we knew what was happening all around instead of waiting to hear someone screaming for help to know something is wrong."

Nim sighed. She understood Lanny's point of view, but it was hard to agree with it; it was hard to agree with anything, because very few things seemed safe at the moment. But priorities still existed, and Lanny couldn't forget that some things brought worse consequences than others. She couldn't let her concern rise over any main issues, and that was an issue she had been carrying with herself for a while.

 _"But imagine what would happen if the Yggdrasil was harmed while you were away, and whoever was nearby as well."_  A pause, just enough for Lanny to give the dryad a small, knowing look.  _"Someone being attacked is one thing. The Tree being attacked is another. We do not know what Quetzalcoatl wants to do, but any harm to the Yggdrasil could mean the end of all monster life. Your concern is understandable and correct... but is it really worth it, Lanny?"_

The elf stood thoughtful amongst the heavy droplets of water, thoroughly reconsidering both willingly and unwillingly. Having in mind the type of threat they would surely be faced against, it was extremely hard to not be there for the countless, innocent people that could be caught in the path of doom. She felt like not intervening had been a mistake, and it would be an even worse mistake there because there was no going back…

But she _was_ risking too much. It would be best if she focused on a more general concern later on, if possible. Not like it would be easy for her, though… She would normally argue that so many people would know how to take care of themselves, but that was not the case that time. No one was fit enough to fight against a threat as serious as a rogue guardian.

But she was still risking too much, and she begrudgingly understood that.

"...you're- you're right, I'm sorry.” Lanny sighed, almost in defeat, watching with mild interest as a web of electricity flared in the sky, accompanied by relatively louder thunder. “At least... just let me check the village, and I'll go."

Nim didn't seem fully convinced, but she let it pass. If she could, she would stay there herself and not leave Dream or Nightmare out of her sight, but it simply could not be; so, all in all, she did appreciate having someone making sure everything was alright over there. Someone that could truly fight back if anything happened.

_"Fine. But do not stall. We never know what might happen somewhere else..."_

* * *

**_"oi, what happened to_ ** **them _...?!"_**

82 and 40 were caught off-guard by the sudden, panicked yell, and dismissed their conversation to look over to where 2 was standing just as if they were turning to look at an alien. Not like _that_ 'd be weird, though, considering they had seen every kind of living creature at that point.

They had been pacing around for a while – all night, to be precise, – and nothing had caught their attention so far, which had been pretty disappointing since they had gleefully thought a rare storm would be filled with new sights for once, as everything had gotten rather boring. That was mostly why 2 had their fullest attention right off the bat; finally something worthy to look at.

Their first thought was that someone had been caught in the middle of the rainfall and was soaking wet and grumpy about it; something usual, yet unusual considering the utter lack of interesting weather. Something to have a little, innocent laugh about, as always.

They hadn't expected to see two skeletons they knew fairly well passed out in the middle of the meadow.

2 walked over to them, the other specters following with a mix of curiosity and distant concern. Knowing him, they would expect Ink of all people to fall asleep in the middle of a storm like everything was all good and fine, but Dream didn't seem so likely to do that, and all three skeletons had to consider something was wrong.

 ** _"heeey, helloo, earth to picasso!"_**  2 tried shaking Ink awake, but it was to no avail; he only murmured something unintelligible, completely submerged in a deep sleep, and that was when he noticed the feather still stuck on his forearm.

 ** _"buddy, hey, you awake?"_**  82's attempts to wake Dream up weren't successful either, and he knew that wasn't normal at all. He, someone who really cared about him, knew Dream wasn’t a deep sleeper, and when he was, he was only seeing horrid things he never wanted to talk about. As he tried to get him to respond, tried to somehow figure out what had happened, he made sure he wasn't hurt in any way – and he wasn't, which further confused him.

**_"what's this...?"_ **

82 and 40 looked up at 2's rhetorical question as he plucked the feather off Ink's arm, not bothering to question how something so seemingly frail had managed to pierce through fabric and  _bone_ , examining it with the little light they had; at least they were better adapted to see in the dark. He squinted at the feather, though aside from a _very_ sharp quill, there was nothing unusual about it other than its existence.

 ** _"uh, a feather?"_**  40 answered, frowning as he scooted over to get a closer look.

 ** _"duh."_**  2 scowled, annoyed, as he pulled the arm holding the feather away from the nosy skeleton in indignation.  ** _"that's not what i meant, ya dingus. where did this come from...?"_**

 ** _"look, dream has another one,"_**  82 pointed out, plucking the identical feather off the skeleton's spine. None of the two had reacted to them being removed; they were completely out.

 ** _"you think this has something to do with them... sleeping?"_**  40 tried asking, taking 82's feather instead since 2 wouldn't let him and having a good look at it in case there was some sort of clue, someway. They just looked like regular feathers to him.

 ** _"why would it, tho?"_**  2 asked without much hope, frowning at the other specter.

**_"dunno. look at how sharp this thing is, it looks like a dart."_ **

As they threw their opinions and thoughts back and forth, they were momentarily oblivious to the sparkling close to the village, and Lanny was unaware of the skeletons in the middle of the storm as her attention was brought to the many houses straight after materializing; if she wanted to check on things, she would have to be fast. It was a promise, after all.

She sighed calmly, for there seemed to be nothing out of place. She had decided to just take a look at the cave and be on her way without stalling any further, but that was when the complications began.

The cave was empty.

She gave a confused blink as to make sure she just didn't see the two skeletons that were supposed to be there for some reason, but no, they definitely were not there. It wasn't likely for Dream to be out and away from the village considering the weather, and much less for Nightmare, and inner alarms blared instantly.

Lanny forced herself to stay calm, however, looking back toward the cottages. Maybe they were too cold, or weren't comfortable with the storm in general, and had maybe decided to move in with Neil or someone whom they had similar trust with. Or maybe they just so happened to be on their way back to the Tree just as she got there because they didn't want to be alone. She couldn't just jump into conclusions, even if she could barely stop her mind from doing so.

She would have to check. There was no way she was leaving without knowing where those two had gone.

As she looked around, willing and with a serious urge to make sure everything was as it should be before she left, she barely noticed a dark figure, completely blended in with the general darkness, running toward her. She was mildly alert for a brief second when she saw the fast movement until she realized it was just one of the dark replicas of Papyrus Nightmare had created.

They were normally calm, up to lift people's spirits, joyful, overall nice to be around and never causing any trouble; the fact that one of them was running toward her and calling out for her with clear urgency was rather worrying for that very reason. They looked frightened, and heavily concerned, which was a first, because she had never seen any of them agitated in any way.

**_"lanny! oh thank everything you're here!"_ **

It was only as the skeleton skidded to a stop, not far from colliding against her, that the elf realized it was 82. She took a step back, unsure if to be worried or just confused; she knew 82 out of all of them had a habit to dramatize things, and it sure looked like one of his acts given his flourish. It had to have its serious coating, though, she was sure of it – normally those specters were really shy around her and Nim for whatever reason, treating them like royalty, _especially_ 82, so there had to be rush for him to completely drop the usual mannerisms he tended to address her with.

**_"we might have a problem! a-actually i'm not sure if it's a real problem or not, but it looks like one!"_ **

"Go on...?"

**_"yes! s-so, we were just walking around, and then we saw ink and dream just... lying there, in the middle of the field. and apparently they were sleeping, but someone probably did something to them because they're not waking up, maybe a sleep spell- i'm not sure! and i don't know if this has anything to do with it, but both had these stuck to them."_ **

As his hurried explanation went on, Lanny grew more and more attentive, more worried, especially after he mentioned Dream, but what really made her heart stop was 82 showing her two identical feathers that she recognized in a fleeting instant.

Her eyes widened slowly as she stared at the wet feathers like they were the representation of the end of the world, taking one of them seconds after in a desperate attempt to confirm she wasn't seeing what she thought she was seeing, but it was unmistakable.

For a moment, she felt numb.

* * *

His eyes barely breached open, before closing again victim to the unfathomable fatigue that had taken over him, rendering his body completely motionless and devoid of sense, leaving his mind completely blank, too tired to think of anything.

The first thing he felt was the _cold_. An atmosphere cold enough to make him shiver, and his eyes clenched and quivered before lightly blinking open again, barely. His vision was blurred, tired, making it difficult to focus and prompting him to close them again, but the scenery around him caught his attention.

Where _was_ he, anyway? What had he been even doing? Wasn't it supposed to be raining...?

With a little too much effort, he managed to sit up, his arms trembling as he pushed himself off the grassy, damp ground. He brought a hand up to his skull, dazed, barely able to look around; it felt like he was constantly about to topple over, an unbearably nauseating sensation taking over him.

Everything looked very blue, which was strange considering that everything was supposed to be dark in general. There were many calming shades of blue around him, including blacks and greys, and it took him a moment to realize that the cave, the village, the area around the Tree nor the cliff had those colors, and he had no reason to be anywhere else but there.

He finally grasped full control of his eyes and looked around thoroughly, distant memories slowly coming in. He'd been sleeping in the cave, then went outside, then...

...then they were attacked. But what had happened after that? Wherever he was, it wasn't a place he could easily recognize, and panic began to crawl in.

Tall, mossy rock walls surrounded him. There a few passages here and there, black, lightly waving grass everywhere, and scattered puddles of small dimensions. And glowing crystals sprouting from the ground attached to the walls, of course, something that couldn't be missed. He heard the distant drone of raindrops, but they seemed muffled, above him.

He had never been much of an Underground explorer, however the look of the environment told him if he was anywhere, he was in Waterfall.

For some reason.

It wasn't a foreign place to him, but it gave him the creeps, especially because he had never seen that one place before; it was so secluded, so silent. The Underground was supposed to be brimming with life at night, but he heard nothing and no one aside from the rain above, since it wasn’t located as deep as it had once been.

Wondering where exactly he was and how he had ended there however became a minor priority when he realized Dream was supposed to be there with him, and despite the terrible headache that stuck to him like glue, he frantically looked around, only to find nothing.

"Dream...? H-hello...?!"

His frightened and panicked voice seemed to reverberate on the walls, nothing and no one taking pity and answering. He continued to look around, but he was unarguably alone in a place he didn't know at all, far from where he was supposed to be.

It all felt so surreal that he began to wonder if he was still dreaming as his eyes kept darting around; his body in general still felt too heavy for him to actually get up and have a thorough look around or, better yet, run away and get back home. It would make sense, wouldn't it? Certainly more sense than any of that being real. He expected to see those dark figures of the villagers, that haunting, lifeless copy of his brother, that _thing_ at any moment, coming back to torment his slumbering mind.

But people didn't question if they were dreaming or not when they actually were, did they? He hadn't had that thought even as he saw impossible things right before his eyes.

"I see you're awake."

He jolted, looking behind him, to his sides, in front of him, above him – but he still found nothing, and yet that voice, that calm, sickly sweet voice he could almost recognize, seemed right beside him, and yet everywhere at the same time, crawling in through every possible direction. The faint sound of a rattle was unmistakable.

"Took longer than I expected. You truly are... weak."

It was then when Nightmare found the strength to finally get up, slightly uneasy on his feet at first, but he didn't dare to run. There were several passages between the rock walls, but who knew where they led; they all could be dead ends to trick him, or they all could be entrances to a maze from which he would never get out of on his own. He couldn't be in Waterfall of all places for no reason.

...he was sure he had heard Ink saying something about the Tree of Life being located in Waterfall.

And speaking of Ink, where was he? He had been with him and Dream too before his whole world blacked out. He remembered the two of them, which meant they were still alive, but what if they were being held captive? What if they had been _hurt_?

The worst part was that it would be his fault and no one else's.

"Fortunately, we can now fix that mistake once and for all."

Nightmare heard something behind him, like something having heavily fallen on the grass, and he reeled back as he found Quetzalcoatl behind him, dust and sand spraying around him as he leapt off the rock walls he had been observing the skeleton from.

It still wasn't Nightmare's first instinct to run. Because what was the point? He had no idea where he was whilst Quetzalcoatl surely did if he had taken him there, and he could just have him fall back asleep again before he could even try to get away. Again, he was at the mercy of some miracle; and he didn't believe one was nearby anymore.

"So, let's focus on that, shall we?"

Nightmare had no choice but to face the guardian, knees trembling in sheer terror. He was not going to get out of that one, he simply couldn't deny so, but even above his wellbeing, there was something that frightened him more than whatever malicious intentions Quetzalcoatl could have, and not even paralyzing fear was going to stop him. "W-... w-where's my brother?"

He tried to sound menacing, sure of himself, even though he knew he failed miserably at it – but the intention was honest and heartfelt. For an awful second, he began to wonder if they had taken Dream as a hostage to force him to do something for them, and he almost didn't want to hear the answer, if there was one.

Quetzalcoatl regarded him with a crooked smirk, an amused look at his pitiful stance, switching the staff, object Nightmare was very mindful of – he did _not_ like the capsules hanging off of it and the sharp, blue crystal carved in the shape of a sickle on top, – from one hand to the other. "A coward with a heart of gold. Don't we all love these?"

The guardian slowly and almost absentmindedly paced past Nightmare, who constantly kept his distance without ceasing to face him. Quetzalcoatl was standing closer to the several ways out than he was, which left him with even less chances to escape. "Your brother and your little friend are fine. They, however, happen to be very far from you now, so if I were to take your place... I wouldn't expect them to come running to the rescue."

Chills froze the skeleton. Nightmare gulped, taking another trembling step back. A very small and therefore irrelevant part of him begged him to run through any of the passages, two of which he could see led to more open spaces from that angle, but he didn't want to push his luck like that. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate a guardian.

"W-what do you w-want...?" Nightmare risked asking, voice shaking and breaking, and he couldn't help shrinking when those piercing eyes looked straight into his own.

"What do I want. What a... clichéd question. Everyone wants something. It's such a general term." Quetzalcoatl moved his gaze toward the staff without much seeming interest, fingers skimming across the hanging capsules, making them softly clink against each other. It hauntingly reminded Nightmare of the mobile, and oh how he wished he was still in the cave, safe and sound with his brother right by his side, and not lost and trapped with an extremely powerful, extremely dangerous madman. "But if we have to be specific... I want you. And yet, at the same time... I don't want _you_."

Nightmare couldn't help frowning at the puzzling statement, but he doubted he still had the courage to say anything else. As long as Dream was fine...

Quetzalcoatl set the scepter on a corner. "I know you don't understand. You must be so confused and frightened. But really, there is no need to be. If I wanted to kill you, or harm you, I would have done so already, and wouldn't have bothered with so many complications. I am merely here to help you, since you and your incompetent brother seem unable to do so."

To make matters worse, Kamea walked in from one of the passages, right behind the guardian. He seemed to be holding something, though he couldn't see from where he was standing. Not like he _wanted_ to know, anyway.

"We are here to get along with each other. There is no need whatsoever to complicate anything, so let's just settle down, have a little talk like the good friends we surely are."

Quetzalcoatl took whatever Kamea was holding out to him, two things, and turned to look at the skeleton with a sickening, fanged grin as the human walked off, though not back through where he came from. "Are you hungry?"

It was a black apple, and he had another one on his other hand too.

Sudden alarms blared, and Nightmare only froze for a second with pinprick sized eyes before reality slapped him across the face with about as much night as it possibly could, his entire body feeling numb yet compressed and tense, his chest tingling with a fear even stronger than before, something he never would have thought were possible.

His head spun like a vicious headache had taken over, and he no longer could care about risks; without stopping to think about it and its imminent consequences, he bolted toward the nearest exit, barely acknowledging the guardian's presence anymore.

Except a vice-like grip on his arm stopped him before he could actually try. Having forgotten about Quetzalcoatl's existence in a smothering wave of panic also meant he had forgotten about Kamea's, who had snuck up behind him, clearly knowing he would try to run away.

The first thing he learnt was that the human had some iron strength – that, or he was just too weak to actually escape, but hell knows he was _trying_. He pulled and tugged and tried to push his hand off with his remaining own, all while yelling and pleading and panicking, but it was to no avail.

"Oh, come on," Quetzalcoatl insisted with a feigned sweet tone, approaching ever so slowly. "It's just a little apple. What could _possibly_ be the harm?"

His derisive mockery could be sensed from a mile away. Each time Nightmare looked back at him and saw that thing in his hand, coming closer, he froze all over again. Tears began to well in his eyes as he realized he really was not going anywhere and whatever those two wanted to do would be done.

One thing was clear, they were serious about weaponizing him.

Nightmare looked away, clenched his eyes shut, still fighting; he was _not_ about to let them get away with turning him into a monster for he didn't want to imagine what reason exactly without as much of a fight as he could muster. He could only think about the consequences what was about to happen would have... and it only gave him more reasons to keep trying. He would hurt people. He would hurt people _again_. He would hurt his brother. He could hurt his mother. And there would be no going back.

He couldn't let them.

But he was powerless to stop them.

...not _entirely_ powerless, though.

In a fit of rushing panic, and even anger, he writhed fervently, his breathing increasing, hurting his arm in unspeakable ways but unable to care about that as his struggles became just about enough to make the human stagger ever so slightly.

"Let go of me you _freak_!"

He didn't know where he got the courage and strength to do so, but he subconsciously struck Kamea on his side, fist closed and full of desperate force. The human grunted, slightly lurched to the side, but his grip didn't falter at all and if anything Nightmare was only pissing him off. Contrariwise, Quetzalcoatl seemed amused by his last, frantic attempt to get away from the inevitable.

Kamea took his other arm, easily stopping his pointless yet desperate fight, which only made him panic more. "You know, I liked him better when he was sleeping." the human grumbled, mildly surprised that Nightmare was still trying.

"Let him fight," Quetzalcoatl calmly uttered, tone full of sinister interest, calculating certainty, unmistakable malice. "The stronger his emotions are, the easier it will be."

Quetzalcoatl let the skeleton keep struggling, with less and less might every second that ticked past at the realization that no matter how much he'd fight he was not going anywhere, waiting until the urge to fight back one last time died off and utter fear took its rightful place again. It didn't take too long, and he gave Kamea a small glance, eyes firm, before nodding once, slightly.

Kamea knew what he wanted him to do, and narrowed his eyes in acknowledgement as he focused on the whimpering skeleton. He assured his grip on Nightmare's arm – and twisted it the wrong way after a second of waiting, not enough to break it or cause any long-term damage but surely enough for the bones to crackle and for the skeleton to let out a brief scream, mostly because he hadn't expected the sudden wave of pain coursing through his arm.

The moment his mouth opened, the apple was shoved into it, forcing him to take a bite out of the cursed fruit. Though short-lived, the pain in his arm barely let him realize, but a single bite was all it took to twist his panicked thoughts around.

The pain, the fear, the rush of adrenaline; everything disappeared like smoke blown away, and it was such a relieving sensation, like an unbearable weight was finally taken away from his frail form never to come back again. For a moment, it was like he no longer had a body, only his mind. His mind, which was completely at rest despite what was happening. His mind, which then changed, and craved the relief the apples gave him as he swallowed it almost as if in trance.

He completely stopped moving, his body relaxed, his eyes wide after slowly blinking open a few times. He seemed confused, wondering and pondering and thinking thoroughly as something began to ease his frantic thoughts. Kamea let go of him, but Nightmare only reacted by taking a single step forth instead of making any attempt to run which would be the most logical thing to do at that point despite everything.

...he felt... nice. Nicer than he ever had.

...he felt... like he had nothing to fear. Because fear was something awful. Something he _didn't_ deserve.

He didn't want to be afraid, and the apples took his fear away.

He wanted to keep feeling like that.

He... he wanted– no, he _needed_ more.

Slowly, his entranced gaze looked up at a smirking Quetzalcoatl. Specifically, at the dark fruit he was deliberately holding out to him, like it was the most valuable treasure in the entire world, something people could and should die for.

"Want some more?"

A sudden, primal instinct took over him as his shrunken eyes locked onto the fruit, as it if would disappear if he stopped looking at it for even a second. A sense of greed and need, a desperate impulse, broke his mind without his realization. He felt like an empty vessel, a mere puppet, a useless and frightened vessel that needed a true essence to live properly, and said essence could only be in those apples.

He needed them.

_He needed more._

Without fear, without hesitation, without caring about the powerful creature he was alone against, he snatched the fruit right out of Quetzalcoatl's hand almost like a starving animal, turning his back on them in order to protect his only salvation. If he had to be aggressive to keep it, so be it then; he needed that power, and he couldn't care less who those two were.

They hated him, so he would hate them too.

Quetzalcoatl chuckled in delight as the little one devoured the apple as if he had no idea of its consequences, already entranced by their brainwashing power; it was such a pitiful display to him, that not even pure negative energies supposedly made to protect in one way or another could resist that enchantment. Truly a failure, but one that would soon become a success under his watch. It, of course, would not be easy... but he knew that, and that was the fun part about it.

"Look at him, so... oblivious." the guardian drawled to himself, picking back up and twirling the staff in order to find the capsule he was looking for, a relatively brighter one that he easily plucked off. "I do wonder what he would think of himself if he was aware enough."

He flung the cork off the thin bottle with his thumb, observing the capsule's contents for a moment before pouring the glowing magenta liquid over the remaining apple. It seemed to absorb the serum quickly, like the other objects he had tested it on much earlier, and as soon as he set it down, crouching over it, it glistened for a split second, another one materialized by its side. Then another, after a few seconds.

Perfect.

With a content grin, Quetzalcoatl stood up and walked past Nightmare as he finished off the apple, immediately looking at him as his supplier and that way noticing the increasing number of fruits he'd left behind. His gaze quickly turned to something much more important than the guardian's presence.

His urge for more grew stronger.

He only just realized how weak he truly was, and how much better he could be.

How much more powerful.

How much more like _someone_ , and not some frail puppet.

The sight of those apples meant the world to him, and he no longer knew they were instead supposed to mean hell in its purest form. He even gave the guardian a fleeting glance that seemed full of disbelief, as if to confirm they really were just for him. He wasn't planning on sharing, of course.

"You may thank me later, little  _conetl_."

As expected, Nightmare discarded his existence and rushed past him, to the goldmine the multiplying apples looked like to his confused, melting mind. There was no common sense to hold him back anymore.

Quetzalcoatl walked over to Kamea, looking back at the skeleton as he ate apple after apple, becoming more and more entranced, more and more distant, destroying himself without the slightest realization. "One more successful step forth. All we need to do now, is wait. Come along."

Realizing the guardian was on his way to nonchalantly leave, Kamea gave him a confused glance, panning between him and Nightmare. "And leave him alone? Unattended?"

Quetzalcoatl stopped, not looking back. "Not like anyone could find this place easily. He will not get into trouble, and if he does, it won't be anything major. He will have an unstoppable urge to kill and destroy everything in his way for the first few minutes." He glanced over his shoulder. "It would be foolish to stand here before he calmed down, wouldn't it? But, if you want to stay, suit yourself."

The guardian walked off, not precisely waiting for his subordinate to go with him straight away. Kamea casted another glance at Nightmare as Quetzalcoatl disappeared from sight, and sighed in an irritated way before following. "I'll never understand how you think this is a good idea."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we can't have nice, fluffy things in this series can we
> 
> p.s "Yggdrasil" is another name for the Tree of Magic in the context of Dreamtale. The other two trees don't have their own names or at least I don't think they do
> 
> p.p.s The Yggdrasil is an actual mythological tree. the more you know. uwu


	14. Indelible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream was entirely sure Nim was trying not to cry. He recognized that expression, the furrowed brows and unmasked display of hesitation. It was a mirror of his own, and for that he knew it was utter grief, and he knew Nightmare really was not around anymore.
> 
> "He is gone, Dream."

He felt like there was something he really should remember, but he couldn't quite place what, exactly. His mind was too tired, blurry and confused to let him think properly, and all he could really feel were the cold drops of rain on his face as he tried to open his eyes, squinting.

He was doing something, wasn't he? But what? He remembered waking up in a daze, and hearing someone's screams immediately after. He couldn't remember what they'd said, but they sounded frantic, and he had been lured to them immediately. It had been… an extremely  _panicked_  type of impulse to get on his feet and give his _life_ to help whoever was in trouble without thinking twice, something not just anyone could elicit from him so easily.

It had to be someone he really loved and cared about for him to react that way and in such a quick span of time. He remembered his thought process when he'd heard the distraught yells, the way his entire body tensed at the mere idea of someone so close to him being in distress… but _who_ had it been? It certainly hadn't been his mother, there was a chance it could have been Ink, and Nightmare was–

Nightmare.

Nightmare hadn't been beside him when he woke up.  _He_ was in trouble.

_Where was he?!_

"Nightmare!"

Dream jolted upright, so panicked that he could not even feel the uncanny tiredness all throughout him or the headache that consumed his mind, defying the numb state of his body. He saw rain and a few figures he couldn't recognize, but none of them were his brother, and his eyes shrunk.

"W- where is he?!"

He looked around and around, almost hyperventilating, but his brother was not with him. Ink was, and so were a few of those Papyrus specters he could not stop to identify, and Error and his brother, and others figures behind the dark skeletons he could not see well enough, but they were not who he was so desperately looking for. He didn't know what was happening, he didn't know where he was, and he didn't  _care_  –  _where was his brother?_

" _Where-_ "

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and his frantic breathing immediately calmed down as he lightly flinched.  _"Dream..."_

His mother was there too, right beside him, he'd only just realized, but Nightmare was not around her either. She looked grim, much like everyone else. He didn't like the sorrowed way she was looking at him. He didn't like the weight of the atmosphere, that foreboding tension holding on to everyone, and he especially did not like the ominous pause the dryad made.

_"They... took him away."_

Everything had happened too fast.

It all had started when Lanny immediately took the two fallen skeletons back to Nim as soon as she realized what had happened, and it only took a feather for her to know the utter gravity of the situation. The elf was not alarmed for the two skeletons' wellbeing, since she knew the quills of Quetzalcoatl's feathers had venom that put people to sleep amongst other things – she had once been hit by one accidentally, and she was starting to think it might not have been so accidentally after all, – but for the fact that Quetzalcoatl had indeed gone after them.

It was exactly what she had feared all along: an attack out of anyone's sight, a grave issue that was only known when someone was screaming for help. She saw it coming from every direction.

After bringing the skeletons back to the Tree, she had immediately headed off to look for Nightmare without explaining much more – the feathers were enough. She’d seen Nim's inner panic after noticing his disappearance, but despite Lanny trying not to overthink it, guessing he could have just run away, said panic became real; Nightmare was nowhere to be seen, and odds were he had been taken away.

It had taken a _lot_ of convincing by the dryad to get the guardian of magic back to her respective tree after the incident, but she ended up complying, and Nim was left alone with her stifling worries. Alone, with the three concerned specters that had found Ink and Dream in the first place, and Error and his brother with the two skeletons from Underswap following them. They knew what was going on too.

All the while, Nim had kept fearfully wondering how Dream would react to knowing his brother was gone and that no one knew where he was at all. He would panic like he had never panicked before. It would be too much of a hard hit for him to handle. She knew he just wouldn't be able to take that much; between discovering what he really was like and losing the one he loved the most in the entire world, he could very well break apart.

It had suddenly become terrifying to think that more than one of the black apples could have been stolen by the same people who took Nightmare away. Nim still didn't know if that had been the case, but it would help when it came to connecting the dots as to why Quetzalcoatl wanted Nightmare so badly. Then again, they were just two or three apples at max... but it was still a fraught thought, especially knowing the extents Quetzalcoatl could go to in order to get what he wanted.

It took Dream a while to let those words sink in, and he blinked without taking his confused, fearful gaze off his mother. At first, it was like he had heard nothing, no words whatsoever. Then, as suddenly as could be, realization fell upon him, and it felt like a bullet had pierced straight through him – and then his world went blank and numb, numb enough to drown out the coldness of the raindrops hitting his skull, and then he suddenly couldn't hear anything else, and then his mind stopped, and then he felt like he couldn't breathe.

He remembered now. He remembered perfectly. He remembered jolting awake from one of the many night terrors he had already gone through, he remembered waking up to his brother screaming for help somewhere out there instead of being beside him, he remembered rushing in without a care in the world and he remembered those two  _monsters_  standing in their way and then–

And then Nightmare was gone. They did something to them, he wasn't exactly sure what. There was a sharp sting of pain, then there was extreme exhaustion, then there was nothing… and then there was panic and realization and  _horror_.

They took him away.

They took his brother away.

He was gone.

_Gone._

He could have protected him.

And he  _didn't._

His brother was  _gone._

He  _failed_  him.

He made him a promise and he _tore it to pieces._

Dream blinked unsteadily, unable to say anything for a moment, staying still and quiet and shocked for what seemed like hours, feeling like he was about to lose his balance and topple over like a weak tower despite sitting. He barely even remembered there were more people around him, trying to comprehend what had happened, trying to believe it wasn't real and just part of a twisted hallucination.

"...w...what...?" he whispered, his voice completely devastated, broken by the unbearable grief that was slowly consuming him as he looked up at his mother again, praying he hadn't heard what he had just heard, praying she would tell him Nightmare was fine and none of that had ever happened.

But it was in vain.

Dream was entirely sure Nim was trying not to cry. He recognized that expression, the furrowed brows and unmasked display of hesitation. It was a mirror of his own, and for that he knew it was utter  _grief_ , and he knew Nightmare really was not around anymore.

_"He is gone, Dream."_

The skeleton said nothing, did nothing. He couldn't even cry. All he did was take a small intake of breath and he just stood there, in shock, slowly lowering his head almost mechanically, his trembling hands clenching into fists around the grass he sat on. He was trembling. It wasn't entirely visible, but Nim felt it, and his inner reaction only gave her more worry.

The whole truth had been unbearable for him. Knowing he probably would never see his brother again, or knowing he could be hurt or something worse, was simply _too_ much for him. Too much for him to even react. He only heard one continuous word rumbling over and over again in his mind with the strength of the thunder above.

Gone.

_Gone._

**_Gone._ **

Ink, who had woken up just a few minutes before he did, gave him a pitying look as he broke from the inside. He had seen many sides of him, but he had never seen him so... _devastated_. Not even when he’d lost his will to live.

And he could have done something to stop that, and he didn't.

He felt like an idiot.

"...I'm sorry." the artist mumbled, to no one in particular, to everyone in general. Nim glanced at him as she pulled Dream closer to her; the skeleton did appreciate the affection, but he was too shocked to do anything other than remind himself that his brother was irremediably gone, which eventually made stagnant tears well in his quivering eyes.

_"It was not your fault. You know that."_

"It's not the first time I've done stupid things like this. I could've done  _something_  and he... wouldn't be like  _that_." Ink made a vague, exasperated hand motion toward Dream. But as heartbreaking as it was to see him like that, the guardian couldn't blame someone who couldn’t stop the unstoppable.

"I'm just... I'm just really stupid sometimes." Ink muttered to himself, though still loud enough for others to hear. Dream briefly glanced at him, like he was going to say something... but he couldn't.

 ** _"well, all things considered..."_**  82 timidly chimed in, fidgeting nervously.  ** _"it- it could've been worse..."_**  He giggled anxiously, shrinking, trying to lighten up the mood despite such thing seeming impossible. 2 was tempted to smack him.

He wasn't far from the truth, though. It  _could_  have been much worse. Dream could have been taken away too, or could have been seriously hurt in the process along with Ink for interfering. The fact that Ink and Dream had remained unscathed, however, was on its way to prove Quetzalcoatl needed them alive too. Nim didn't exactly want to know for what, but she would definitely have to keep an eye on the two of them. Especially on Ink, stubborn as he was.

But for the time being, she could only focus on the despaired skeleton beside her, the skeleton that would no longer respond to anything. Dream was still trembling and staring at nothing with wide eyes full of horrified realization, and the tears wouldn't fall off his eyes. He didn't care how much they stung, because his eyes would never ache as much as his heart.

...he had to get his brother back... somehow... when his body started responding again, because, out of his realization, he had completely locked up. He was submerged in a thousand thoughts, diving through old and recent memories, reminding himself of the disaster that had struck. Time was static for him as his mind worked on its own, without letting him move, or even be aware of what was going on around him.

Nim knew he would need nameless amounts of time to cope with the disappearance of his brother, much like she would... but he was starting to scare her. He didn't react at all when she tried to catch his attention, like he had forgotten she was even there. She too was becoming less aware of the others talking, focused only on the distraught skeleton, on her son, on the only one she had left... _again_.

"Has anyone spread the word yet?" Ink asked in general, prying his attention away from his shocked friend becoming rather difficult. He would have given anything not to ever see him like that again... "I know we've already been through this, but we've gotten amp it up. These guys aren't messing around."

Especially given how quickly he was taken out of the fight, without even standing a single chance. Between one random human that could kill them all in the blink of an eye and an omnipotent being that could stop any fight before it even started... they were on the losing end, and they would remain there until they learnt how to face the imminent threat. Which, in itself, would not be easy on the slightest.

 **"i... i did."** a hesitant voice came in, and Ink couldn't hide his distaste at noticing it was Error, standing half behind his brother. Who of course stepped away and left him in open sight. Error didn't seem too happy about the judgmental look Ink was giving him, as per usual, but he only showed so by averting his gaze. **"told them everything as soon as i saw it."** The dark skeleton vaguely gestured to the others behind him, Blueberry and his brother of course. And it was only luck he'd even found them amidst the rain, at night. **“and they told the rest.”**

Ink gave him a moment of silence before humming in acknowledgement. At least he was useful for once...

"As long as _someone_ tells them...- wait, did you say... as soon as you _saw_ it?" Ink ceased musing to cast a glare at Error, taking a step forth. The other skeleton was overly nervous all of a sudden. "You saw _everything_?"

There it was; the odd freezing and stuttering. He could never bring himself to trust Error; he was always so jumpy and anxious and straight up eerie. Ink still didn't know why people were all good and fine at having him around, especially knowing people could indeed have evil tendencies. It was like he was always hiding something, like he could snap at any moment. **"well, i, uh... ah... yes."**

Ink blinked once, taken aback; and the others looked at Error, some with confusion, others with curiosity, others with... skepticism. Namely certain orange Papyrus.

The artist seemed unable to articulate any words for a second, having expected that answer but _not_ having expected it at the same time, and he was suddenly really, _really_ angry, but he didn't outwardly show it. Not until he addressed Error again.

"You saw all of that... from the _beginning_... and you didn't do _anything_?!"

Error slightly jumped back at Ink's raise of tone, and even his brother seemed rather intimidated. Mismatched pupils darted around as the black skeleton stammered unsurely, **"well, i- i didn't... what was i supposed to-"**

"What do you mean what were you supposed to do?! You're the glitchy freak with all the strings and– hell, you're the freak that nearly _destroyed the entire multiverse_! What the hell do you mean what are you supposed to do!"

"oh no," Papyrus deadpanned under his breath, and Blueberry couldn't exactly tell if he actually cared about what was happening or not. It was an _I-saw-that-coming_ type of murmur his brother used to throw around that kind of situations, but either way it normally meant they were not bound to end well, and he of course tried to step in between the two skeletons.

"GUYS, CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS LATER? PLEASE? I'M SURE ERROR HAD A REASON TO-"

"Blue, he was _right there_. If I could do something, he could have as well instead of just watching!"

Nim looked up when the commotion began arising. She had been aware enough of the conversation but certainly did not see an excuse behind Ink's yelling. It was not the time to start trouble where it was uncalled for, but it was becoming obvious that the situation would escalate. Dream still didn't react... he looked up, yes, but that was all.

Still, Nim had to pry her attention off of him. Arguments were unneeded, especially there.

_"Ink, stop."_

But Ink didn't stop. In fact, he seemed offended, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. "Oh, why am _I_ the one who has to stop? Every time this guy does something wrong, _I'm_ the bad guy. Seriously? Doesn't anyone else find it wrong that he just stood there when he could have helped?!"

_"Ink-"_

Error stepped forth, **"brings me back to the point, what was i supposed to do?"**

"Are you _kidding_ me? You've got bones, you've got blasters, you've got the damn strings- and you didn't even _try_!"

**"i don't _know_ how to use ̢ţh̷os̢e!"**

It was Ink's turn to be taken aback by Error's raise of tone. He hadn't seen him actually _angry_ there, ever... and it was rather ominous, but it only made him angrier, and they kept advancing on each other. "You don't know how to use those? Is _that_ your excuse? Sure, and I'm a duck."

"GUYS, SERIOUSLY-"

**"what the _hell_ do you expect, i haven't used those for years! i. don't. remember!"**

"Oh, quit the buffoonery. Do you know how many times I saw you knitting? What's the difference?! And you can't possibly forget something you have naturally. Come on, at least have some dignity and admit you couldn't care _less_."

Ink intentionally prodded Error on the shoulder as he finished his sentence, sending the skeleton stumbling back in an incontrollable panic at the brief contact – again with those glitches clouding him for a moment as he stepped away. Those, along with the scowl the skeleton bore a second ago, brought back horrid memories... but Ink was too outraged to pay much attention to those.

 _"Ink, for the love of everything,_ stop _."_ Nim commanded, losing her patience at an alarming rate. It wasn't the first time she'd had to be strict with Ink about his treatment of Error, no matter the reason, but it was by far the most serious one yet. She wasn't joking, at all, but the artist didn't entirely get it.

"Why aren't _you_ mad?" He whirled around to face her, angrily puzzled. "It's _his_ fault that Nightmare got taken! Who knows what he would've done if Dream and I had actually been hurt... Oh, I know! _Nothing_!"

**"i said i can't, _you wo͟rth̕less ̵r̶ai̧nb͢ow mo̷r̛on_!"**

And then there was silence. Error was staring intently at Ink, eyes furiously narrowed, teeth clenched, pupils gone and replaced with errors all throughout his otherwise crimson sockets. Error had never been angry there before. On the inside, maybe, but he'd never shown it.

He was _enraged._

But the aggressive stance only lasted for a moment, as a few seconds later, Error's eyes blinked back to normal as he straightened. He seemed mildly confused. Angry, unmistakably, but mildly confused. He hadn't meant to yell like _that_... but he knew why he was acting the way he was, and he wasn’t sorry. He was tired of being treated like scum every day of his life by that artist. It was instinctual for him to defend himself, especially because Ink was going too far. He didn't care what the others thought of him, he just wanted all that scorn and humiliation to end.

He wasn’t going to keep pretending he didn’t care anymore.

Ink's shock only lasted a second, though. His eyes narrowed decisively, as if looking for a challenge. He wasn’t about to show fear. Especially because _he_ didn’t do anything wrong, whereas certain glitch got Nightmare kidnapped. "That's how it is, huh? It's always me. You're not some sunshine child, Error. Just freaking admit you messed up big time instead of playing the victim."

**"at least i did _something_ by trying to warn people, instead of taking a damn nap."**

"Like I could've seen that coming! At least I tried to do something _useful_! I don't believe for _one millisecond_ that you don't even know how to spawn some bones. And then I'm the worthless one."

**"shut it. seriously, _shut it_."**

"You're in the wrong. As _always_. Admit it for _once_."

**"i did nothing wrong!"**

"We could've _died_!"

**"i can't use my magic, do you _understand_ , you _d͢a̛m̢ned i̢di̧o̵t_?!" **

_"THAT IS ENOUGH."_

A root sprung through the ground right between the skeletons who at that point were pretty much face to face, sending the two of them reeling back; it was close enough for them to feel the whoosh of air as it blasted to the surface. They both stepped away, looking at a very, _very_ angry Nim with eyes that were no longer looking for a fight.

A haze of mellow light surrounded the guardian's hand as she breathed deeply, and everyone was sent into complete silence; they knew better than to aggravate an irate guardian. Nim's angered gaze fell upon Ink, who instantly averted his with a flinch. _"I told you to_ stop _, Ink. We are not here to cause any more trouble. If you cannot control yourself, then perhaps you need some time alone."_

The artist was quick to get the hint to get out of there before he angered her any more than she already had been, and he did so, his head slightly lowered in shame, but he didn't fail to give Error one last glower before sprinting off into the distance, scoffing.

It was Error's turn to be coldly glared at, and that firm, eyeless gaze sent shivers through every part of his body. _"The same applies to you. Either you stop this pointless grudge or you stop retaliating. This is the_ last _time I tolerate such behavior."_

Nim looked up at Error's brother, and said Papyrus fidgeted nervously. _"Take him away. We have had enough for a day."_

The color-negative skeleton nodded sheepishly. **"COME ALONG, BROTHER..."**

It took Error a moment of staring at the ground, pondering aimlessly, before he brought himself to follow, sharply tucking his hands in his pockets and walking with his head low. **"i'm _tired_ of him, bro."**

**"I KNOW, I KNOW. BUT YOU NEED TO TONE IT DOWN... THAT WAS ODD, COMING FROM YOU."**

Nim watched them leave through the rain, which was finally showing signs of relenting, in tense silence. She let the root burrow back into the ground with a resigned sigh, closing her eyes in thought.

She didn't want to have to be so strict with anyone. She didn't want to have that kind of problems around. Tough times were coming and the last thing they needed was a growing grudge to slow them down, but it seemed like even that was out of her reach. She had a bad presage about those two, and she couldn't help it; she had never seen Error so angry, and despite freezing and other quirks being usual in him, it had been a very long time since he hadn't glitched around.

One more to keep her eyes on.

The others watched as each skeleton went on their way, and Blueberry seemed especially distraught and concerned about the ordeal. He wasn't one to think negatively, but he'd seen that coming for a long time. Ever since Ink started behaving with hostility around Error, he knew they were on a very tight rope that would snap at the most insignificant of clashes. He never wanted to see it happen, but there it was.

"SHOULD WE CHECK ON THEM...?" he timidly asked as he looked up at his brother, fidgeting. Papyrus gave him a calm look, trying not to appear too faced by the argument as to not further concern his sibling, even though he really was worried. He didn’t think it would happen so quickly, but he didn’t want Error to go berserk. Those two really had to stop arguing, because odds were their next quarrel would be as heated as that one if they stayed on those terms.

"guess we could do that," he finally complied. Of course Error was angry, but through the years he had learnt to trust him enough despite everything that had happened in the past; which was something Blueberry really appreciated. He didn’t mind talking some sense into him, and he wasn’t especially afraid.

Papyrus turned to look at the spectral copies beside him, "we'll talk to error, you guys go find ink."

All three nodded simultaneously. **_"aye-aye, captain!"_** 40 added, though receiving a light friendly-annoyed smack by courtesy of 2 for that. Papyrus scoffed in amusement at their usual antics; as long as no one was too worried...

 _"Have some patience with them,"_ Nim told them as they were on their way to go, not looking up. Dream still wasn't responding, and she could've sworn he was muttering unintelligible things to himself. _"If they do not feel like talking, leave them be. Each of us... copes with problems differently."_

Everyone understood as they walked off, and it was then when she actually heard what Dream was murmuring. Barely, considering the low tone of his voice and the rain, but it still was decently audible.

"I have to find him... He's not gone... He's not... I'll find–..."

He'd been thinking all throughout. Hadn't Ink said he'd found the Tree of Life in Waterfall...? He could almost remember that very day, with Ink cheerfully coming back from doing some intensive exploring around the Underground to see if anything had changed and telling everyone the tree Nim and Lanny had been looking around for was there, relatively hidden from sight. If Quetzalcoatl had taken his brother anywhere... it had to be there. There, or somewhere around the vast, unexplored zones aboveground, but Waterfall _needed_ to be checked.

And if no one was going to check, then he would have to. He was not going to lose his brother again while he still had even the slimmest of chances of finding him. Nightmare was somewhere out there, alone and scared and tormented by some madmen, and no one was looking for him. He had to do something. He was perfectly aware of the risks, but he _had_ to do something. He was not losing his brother _again_. He was _not._

And his mind began acting on its own, begging him to stand up and run and look for his frightened brother before it was too late, before he was hurt or killed or something even worse. And soon, his frantic mind took control of his body. He knew he was going to do something stupid, something incredibly stupid that could get him killed, but he couldn't turn back. He would not allow himself to stand aside while Nightmare needed him the most like he had done before.

_I'm sorry, mother._

Before he even knew he was doing so, he sprang to his feet and ran in the direction of the Underground before his mother could stop him, tears finally falling from his eyes.

_"Dream!"_

It broke his heart to just run off like that, especially knowing Nim would not be able to go after him because she couldn't allow herself to leave the Tree no matter what. It wasn't something he normally would dare doing, but he _had_ to. He had to save his brother.

He never looked back. He kept running through the cold rain, sprinting past the three dark skeletons who were too confused at first to realize what was going on but followed him anyway. He soon sprinted past Ink, too, who had stopped near the Underground, submerged in his own thoughts.

Dream didn't address him in any way. He couldn’t check if he was alright, he couldn’t reassure him. It was not the time. He didn’t have the time.

He skidded to a stop at the entrance to the Underground, rushing in without caring about being seen by the artist who heard him running about and turned to look at him.

"Dream...?"

Ink immediately knew it wasn't normal for Dream to be out there on his own, desperately running into the Underground with tears in his eyes. Something was very wrong, and he was about to find out.

"Wait, where are you- _hey_!"

The artist rushed after Dream, and upon seeing the scene, so did the other three skeletons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just saying, yes I know Error and Geno are the same guy (and if you didn't know, well NOW YOU DO! :D), but in this case, let's just pretend they're not. or, well, look at it however you want to. just know that both of them are here and they're their own character. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	15. The Nightmare Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't know where all those apples had come from, but he simply couldn't care. He couldn't care about finding out why there were so many of them when the Tree of Feelings was perfectly fine, he couldn't care about finding out how they even got there; all he cared about was his brother who was in extreme agony and the only thing he could do about it was watch.

He'd lost Ink back at the Ruins. And good thing, too; if things went wrong, they would go  _very_  wrong, and he didn't want anyone else to get hurt if such was the case, especially not because of him. It wasn't his intention to rope anyone into the way of danger, unintentionally or not. He was doing something very hazardous, and for that he wanted to do it himself. He still had to fix his own mistakes.

It hadn't been easy to lose the four skeletons calling out after him; they were a little too close by the time he had noticed them, but at least the Ruins was an easy place to lose people in with its maze-like build – even if all the puzzles that used to be there were all deactivated for safety and comfort reasons.

It was good enough that not many of the monsters and humans around there had questioned where he was going, because he hadn’t even stopped to think about what he would do in case someone who happened to notice things weren’t right would try to stop him as well; his mind only came back to his brother, and nothing else. It had worked in the end, anyway, also despite all the confused people he'd run past around Snowdin and the entrance to Waterfall too.

Tired and appalled, he was finally alone, without the rush of being stopped.

 _Too_  alone, maybe.

It was still nighttime outside, and it was still raining; it was very,  _very_  strange that the Underground was that empty, since people should have been looking for shelter. It was always brimming with life during normal nights, and he had already seen countless people before. Waterfall was a cold, dark and humid place and not the best to be around that weather, sure, but he hadn't seen or even _heard_ anyone there since he'd ventured further in. It left him rather worried, but still the only thing in his mind was his brother.

The atmosphere was cool and damp, as always, and the eerie lack of people only helped at making it unwelcoming, but he kept walking even though he didn't know where exactly that tree was. Waterfall was quite the maze, and an extensive place too, much more so than the Ruins. He didn't even know if Nightmare _was_ there, and he could be looking for hours just to find nothing and get himself in serious trouble.

But if that was the case, so be it. He would leave no rock unturned until he found his brother. There was a chance he could be there, and he _would_ keep looking.

"Nightmare...? Nightmare...! Hello...?"

His voice seemed to echo through the silence. No one and nothing answered him, and the lack of people was  _really_  starting to worry him. In the case he did inhabit that place, what if Quetzalcoatl had killed the people that were usually around there? Or hurt them, or kidnapped them or something? That was not the first time Dream had been in Waterfall, and it was normally not  _that_  desolate. It was a terrifying thought…

He kept walking, exploring every part of Waterfall he knew, calling out for his brother and trying to find other people, even the smallest of common critters, but so far, he'd had no luck. He was completely alone down there, ominous as that was, and he saw no tree anywhere. He was almost starting to give up, but how could he? Nightmare could be anywhere, and he  _would_  find him even if it was the last thing he would ever do. He knew what he was up against, and if he had to die, he wouldn't die in vain.

"Nightmare...! Please, where are you...?"

The silence was truly deafening.

* * *

It felt like he had been wandering about for hours on end, to the point where he no longer remember which zones he had already been through and which he hadn't checked yet; everything started to look exactly the same after a while, and the echo flowers repeating his despaired calls were not of much help. He had looked through caves, through doors, through mazes, but there was nothing, nothing he was looking for, no one. He'd had to go through his fair share of relatively deep puddles and shallower lakes and he was freezing, but even that didn't stop him.

At one point, he felt like he had wandered too far, beyond paths or signs, beyond what was normally habitable, having climbed through steep rock walls and made his way through stagnant waters and tunnels and endless patches of tall grass that made him lose his bearings. He knew what the Underground looked like, more or less, but he didn't entirely recognize that part of Waterfall. There were no more houses, or echo flowers, or bridges, or signs, or anything that was usually seen around that place. It seemed slightly darker, more rocky and mossier, with glowing crystals spread around and no paths to be seen, an almost abandoned side of it.

The silence became even worse; the only thing Dream could hear, aside from his own voice and footsteps, was the gentle rain aboveground, and water dripping down from the ceiling at a steady pace. It looked like something out of a horror movie, and Dream was thinking of backtracking, but he didn’t even know which direction he had come from after so many twists and turns and ups and downs, so he kept advancing. As the old saying went: if you can’t go back, keep going forward.

He was relatively high up, that much he knew; he didn’t remember walking any lower after having climbed up some ledges. Maybe, if he got to a clearing through all the cavern-like halls and secluded areas, he would be able to get an idea of where exactly he was, and maybe find something a little more familiar.

So he continued on, still calling out for his missing brother and hoping to find _anything_ that was alive. It still didn’t look like he would have much luck… but it was then, as he turned a corner, that he was greeted with a stronger, blue glow in the near distance that allured him straight away; he was instinctually driven to check anything that looked even remotely new. He'd thought it would be a bunch of those glowing crystals clustered all together, but no, it was something much more bewildering, and something that drowned him in fear as much as it gave him hope, and he gaped in awe at what he saw.

In an open place, not too far below the ledge he stood on, rose a tree forever marked by the blue glow its crystal apples emanated amongst the cyan leaves, its trunk and protruding roots surrounded by blue tendrils that entwined around it like decorative streamers, almost like its own veins.

It had to be the Tree of Life, and Dream wouldn't feel shame when admitting it was far more beautiful and mystical than the one tree he had ever known. And yet, despite its striking beauty and the mystery surrounding it, it also left a tense atmosphere, a foreboding sensation, tautness in the cold air. Something so beautiful belonged to something so dangerous. It was a complete antithesis.

Dream looked over his shoulder, just in case, but as expected, there was nothing.

Well, there was nothing to lose, either.

But there was a moment of hesitation before he brought himself to head over there. What _was_ he doing? Was he really going to just walk straight toward that tree? Quetzalcoatl had to be around there, and if not, then Kamea would be, and if none of the two were, then they would come back later on, and he wouldn’t stand a chance against them if they found him alone and unsuspecting.

It was far too risky. _Maybe_ if he had a soul, if he had actual powers, but he did not. It was straight up suicide to go there alone and defenseless, having no idea about what that place was actually like and not knowing where the way back home was.

…but his brother was worth it. He truly was.

He was still alive with those two, and Dream would go through a desert without water, through a rampaging ocean, through _rivers of lava_ if that meant he would be able to see Nightmare again and, most importantly, save him. He had no way to be sure he was around there and the silence wasn’t helping, but he had to check. He would not abandon him. Not again.

After a short moment of irresolution, clenching his fists, he slowly climbed down the ledge. It fortunately wasn't too steep or high up, though the protruding rocks were quite sharp, but it was all worth the risk, anyway... Nightmare _could_ be right there. And if he wasn't, well, it was _still_ worth it. As long as there were no indications of something truly bad having happened to him...

Once down, tired after wandering incessantly and taking a deep breath, he walked toward the Tree, nervous and attentive, always on the lookout in case he had to make a sudden run for it. He was _sure_ he had never been around that side of Waterfall; it was a clearing, but there was nothing. No more rock walls nearby, or even grass. It was a desolate place with nothing but scattered puddles and that massive plant in the middle, the one Dream couldn't help admiring as it stood over him, marveling at the environmental detail of its leaves falling at a soft pace like the ones of a cherry blossom.

He walked around it, slowly, but there was nothing else to be seen. No caves or doorways or anything, and he was unsure about going any further to explore anything his eyes might have missed, because he had a really bad feeling about being there. He would have to go back eventually… and he had no idea how. He was most definitely too tired to try.

"Nightmare...?"

No response, as usual. Dream looked up at the Tree, observing its falling leaves, its bizarre fruits, but there was nothing alive aside from the plant itself – he presumed, – and he found himself losing hope again. There was nothing to truly look for, nothing actually useful to pay attention to…

Aside from the... souls inside the apples.

Dream narrowed his eyes, thinking he was just seeing things. He approached the lower branches, taking a good look at the crystal apples, their glow reflecting on him... and there really were  _souls_  inside of them. Tiny souls, all white, floating inside the eerie fruits, dozens of them cramped together in each apple. There wasn't a single empty one, not that he could see.

He didn’t think it was an aesthetic.

Were those supposed to be...  _them_? They were all dead, weren't they? And that tree also held death, didn't it? Were those tiny hearts supposed to represent each and every single person that had died and now lived in the afterlife? Or were those… people who had died there, and were completely forgotten? In a twisted way, it would make sense why there were so few people hanging around less secluded zones of Waterfall that were near the Tree, but it was impossible that so many people had died.

Either way, it was beyond  _terrifying_ , especially if Quetzalcoatl had any control over who was there and who was not. Dream didn't know how the Trees of Life and Magic worked yet, he didn't know if any harm could actually come to them if the apples were tampered with, but that tree belonged to a deranged being and the mere thought that all the people around there could be at his mercy was utterly horrifying. He would really have to ask Nim or Lanny how the Tree of Life worked when he got back.

 _If_  he got back.

If  _they_  got back, preferably. He was not there to look at a tree, he was there to look for–

"Get _away_ from me...!"

Dream immediately turned around as fright shocked him, but it couldn't possibly be Quetzalcoatl or Kamea; it didn't sound like them as far as he knew, and that voice seemed afraid and in pain – and relatively far, but still close. _Definitely_ somewhere around there.

...it sounded like Nightmare.

Dream flinched when he heard a harsh sound right after, like something tough had smashed against the rock walls, and the Tree ceased existing for him as he ran in the general direction of the noise without caring about any threat he could find. It was further from where he had come from, nearing some sharp, small mountains drenched in darkness, like that one he knew was in the middle of Waterfall and Hotland where many different Undynes liked to hang out in. Certainly unwelcoming… but crucial.

"Nightmare!"

He ran in a straight line, his nerves unable to settle down as muffled screams and pained grunts began filling his sense of hearing. He went into the cave, and everything was a mass of rocky corridors filled with glowing crystals to illuminate the way and dripping stalagmites, complete with natural chambers and holes to the dark outside above. It was a massive, maze-like cavern. He wasn’t even sure he had heard the voice from there, it was such an extensive place–

"Stop...! Get  _away!"_

Another clash, and Dream flinched again and ran faster than he had ever before because it was definitely coming from somewhere in there. _Someone was hurting his brother._

He stopped harshly when he heard that same voice right beside him, a heart he didn’t have pounding so vividly within him, and he found himself next to four passages between the infinite rock walls that led to the same spot. Without thinking twice, he went in, ready to take on whoever dared hurt Nightmare without caring about his lack of powers.

Except there was no one _with_ Nightmare.

_But Nightmare was there nevertheless._

Dream gasped at the sight and _froze_ , he froze the sight of his brother on his knees, hunched, hands wrapped tightly around his chest and his eyes clenched shut in agony, tears cascading freely down.

Tears, and... a black substance, that also trickled down his mouth.

“Leave me… _alone…!”_

Nightmare sprang to his feet and all but _rammed_ himself against the wall, and the unmistakable sound of bones cracking reverberated throughout the vast cave. The harsh strike elicited a cry of pain from the skeleton, who keeled over, but it seemed like it was whatever was _inside_ of him that was hurting him more than having nearly cracked his skull open.

"N-Nightmare...?  _Brother!"_

Dream immediately ran by Nightmare's side, kneeling beside him, scraping his knees against the solid ground but unable to care less about his own pain. The other's eyes shot open as he heard his sibling's voice, and he was clearly in disbelief. His pupils were shrunken.

"D-Dream–  _AGH!"_

Unbearable pain shot all throughout his body as his ribs cracked on their own by an unknown force when Nightmare tried to straighten up and face his brother, falling over again only to be caught by trembling arms. His breathing was pained and heavy, and his arm trembled as he weakly clutched his brother's. He could barely speak without feeling like he was going to run out of air.

"W-what happened– what did they do to you?!"

Nightmare coughed, and it was only then that Dream noticed the severity of the cracks on the sides of his skull. Black liquid was trickling out of them, and it wasn’t blood.

"T… the apples…" Nightmare rasped, coughing again, harshly, clutching his chest as it felt like his ribcage was about to explode; his bones continued to crackle and break and he didn’t even know why or how. Dream held him close, but he was so infuriatingly _impotent_ …

Then his brother's words sank in.

"The what…?" Dream whispered absentmindedly, slowly turning his gaze around him– and there it was, the sight that would have made his blood run cold if he had any flowing. There were apple cores spread around, and black goo puddles scattered around them. There were many,  _many_  cores lying on the floor…  _too many_ …

He felt like all those rock walls that stood over them had collapsed on top of him.

No.

_No._

No no no  _no no **no**   **NO.**_

Dream was only taken out of his horrified trance when Nightmare screamed and doubled over, coughing up more of that black liquid that was smeared on the ground and leaking out of the cracks in his skull and mixing with his tears and consuming him. He subconsciously tried to push Dream away, but despite having loosened his grip he was not letting go of him. His free hand dug into the ground, phalanges curling as the pain only got worse.

It was like he was burning from the inside out at the same time as his body was being compressed, all accompanied by unrelenting nausea and a hammering headache. It was as bad as he remembered, perhaps _worse_. Not even having Dream by his side helped him; he was in too much pain to be thankful of his presence, and it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He was slowly starting to stop acknowledging everything around him.

Dream knew he couldn't do anything. And it infuriated him, and scared him, and made him feel worthless. Out of all the things that could happen, it could not be _that_ …

He didn't know where all those apples had come from, but he simply couldn't care. He couldn't care about finding out why there were so many of them when the Tree of Feelings was perfectly fine, he couldn't care about finding out how they even got there; all he cared about was his brother who was in extreme agony and the only thing he could do about it was watch.

"Dream... y-you have to get out of here..." Nightmare managed to say, barely able to, his voice completely broken and exhausted. The searing pain came back to burn his bones and he held back a scream as he curled on the floor when Dream set him down, still right by his side.

"I'm not going anywhere." his brother said firmly, but Nightmare could barely hear him over the horrid screeching and buzzing in his mind, over the thoughts that were not his own.

Nightmare clutched Dream's arm, weakly so. He was breathing so heavily he was almost wheezing, and he coughed again, coughed out the endless black liquid that was choking him and trailing down his cheekbones from the cracks he had given his own skull after trying to get rid of that _thing_. "Please... I don't want to kill you."

**_Yes I do._ **

**_Kill everyone._ **

**_Kill_ ** **everything _–_**

"Shut _up_...!"

Hands covered in tar that came from every little fissure in his bones flew to his head as Nightmare curled into a ball, and Dream was left on his own, agape. That liquid was oozing from every part of his body at that point, tainting bones black.

A tear of gold ran down Dream’s cheekbone, and he barely even realized he was holding his breath in. "You're not going to kill me."

He was in denial.

"Y-you're not."

Completely in denial.

"Please, hold on. _Hold on for me_."

Nightmare was no longer aware of the hands on his shoulder, on his back, of the voice that desperately tried to reassure him. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't speak, he couldn’t move at all, only let out his pain. His hands clawed at his skull, with enough force to make the cracks even more prominent, and that was not his strength.

**_Don't resist._ **

**_Don't fight._ **

**_You can be_ ** **better.**

His tears were completely replaced by that black substance, and he couldn't breathe– it was in his mouth and his nose and he was choking on it and he tried to beg for help but he was not able to find his voice. He twisted and churned and writhed and the utter agony was accumulating in his ribcage and he felt like a ticking bomb, like he was going to outright _explode–_

An awful scream, one Dream would remember for a long time, rang out as four tentacles erupted from his back, and Dream was knocked back as his brother sprang to his knees, and his ribcage was completely _broken–_

He couldn't _breathe–_

_Help––_

**_It'll be over soon._ **

**_Let it happen._ **

He toppled back down like a ragdoll, trying in vain to take in air. The tar-like substance was completely consuming his body, but he couldn't move, he couldn’t stop it; the excruciating pain would not let him. He still couldn't hear his brother, couldn't open his eyes to look at him, couldn't feel his hands as he called out for him and tried to make sure he hadn't died right in front of his eyes, he couldn’t hear him crying.

His mind was slowly going blank, and the headache, gosh it was so strong, so numbing, _so_ _unbearable–_

...and the pain began to cease. Or he simply could not feel it anymore.

He could breathe again.

He could think again.

He could move again.

And by the time he regained his senses, the liquid had completely overtaken him, it had become part of him like the wavering tendrils on his back, and Dream was forced to step away, and Nightmare never realized what was going on around him.

All he knew...

. . .was that he was _angry_. He was _furious_. There was too much anger accumulated, he had to let it out, he had to vent it out on something...

...he had to destroy, _kill_ , he had to tear apart whoever and whatever was in his way...

...yes... that sounded _fun_...

"...N-Nightmare...?"

His brother showed no signs of having heard him, and it was like the world had completely stopped. A relentless wave of dread fell over Dream as Nightmare was fully engulfed in tar and his stifled breathing became slow, deep inhales and exhales, and as much as he refused to do so, he could only fear the worst.

Nightmare stood up. Slowly, dripping. He was slightly hunched, his arms limp by his sides, tendrils lightly waving around. He languidly lifted his arm, looked at it, flexed his phalanges, curling them into a tight fist, all while quietly breathing in and out.

And Dream watched, still frozen. His sibling was suddenly a mass of dripping black liquid... and there was no going back.

But he refused to believe it. He refused to believe his Nightmare was gone. He refused to believe that _monster_ was back. He couldn't have eaten as many apples. He _couldn't_ have. He _had_ to be there. He couldn't have lost him.

"...B... brother...?"

Nightmare snapped his gaze toward him, and Dream stepped back with a gasp.

What greeted him was a contracted, turquoise pupil, and not the fearful eyes of the Nightmare he knew. There were no traits of the Nightmare he knew. Not anymore.

And that was when fear kicked in.

The melting creature slowly turned to fully look at him, and there was no mistake: the merciless monster that had made hell out of his life and the one that stood mere feet away from him were the same.

"N-Nightmare...? A-are you-..."

Nightmare began to advance on him. His expression was inscrutable, but his single eye was trained on him, staring at him with terrifying intensity. Dream backed away, "Nightmare, w-what are you doing...? S-snap out of it!"

His terrified voice went unheard as what lied to be his brother kept approaching, pace languid; he knew he had Dream trapped, and he was driven toward his fear.

"Come on, k-knock it off! It's- it's me...!

Dream tripped on some small rocks behind him, falling on his rear. Nightmare kept on advancing, never taking his unblinking gaze off of him as he pushed himself away. "N-no, I k-know you're in there... y-you have to be... Nightmare, please–"

His back hit the wall, and ice cold chills took over him as he gasped. And Nightmare continued to walk toward him, and he tried to back away further, pressing himself against the wall.

“No… p-please, not like this… Nightmare…”

The melting skeleton got closer, and closer, staring him down without pause, taking no pity in him. Dream made one last, desperate attempt to back away from him despite being completely trapped and at the other's mercy, but he did not want to die. Not at the hands of his brother, his real brother who had been right there with him mere seconds ago.

But he couldn't do anything, anything but shrink in horror as the towering skeleton's shadow fell upon him, and he closed his eyes tightly, looking away, waiting for his imminent fate. The only thing he could do at that point was pray it would be done and over with quickly.

He could feel Nightmare getting yet closer, mostly due to the strength of his aura clouding around him like unbreathable smoke. It was much, _much_ more noticeable and even painful when he didn't have a soul of his own to shield him from its coldness and dread, and he knew the other skeleton was just _inches_ away from him, ready to take his life, and Dream could only wait for it to happen. He didn't want to look.

And he kept waiting.

And waiting. . .

He flinched harshly when something touched the top of his skull, slowly trailing across it; something uncannily cold, though not quite like the feeling of ice. It was something he could only describe as _cold_ , cold as the suffocating aura around him.

He dared to open one of his eyes, shakily so.

Nightmare was almost face-to-face with him, crouching. One of his tentacles rested over his head, and strangely enough it didn't look like he was going to actually hurt him. The melting tendril moved slowly down his temple and cheekbone, a gesture almost meant to be a reassuring caress but that was anything except reassuring, resting below his chin in order to make him look up front. He was alone, defenseless and with no excuse that stopped Nightmare from taking his life unlike last time; it should've been lodged in his skull instead, and Dream was frightfully confused as to why Nightmare was not even _trying_ to kill him.

Yet.

His brother hummed pensively, almost in a disappointed way. He didn't look sickly happy, or angry, only showed an unreadable expression all throughout that still looked as menacing as any other he could have glared at him with. **_"Skeletons... huh. I preferred flesh."_**

It was that deep, menacing voice he had almost grown more used to than his brother's own, the one that sent shivers down his spine, but it was feigning sweetness; it was the type of tone Nightmare used when he was taunting someone, when he was having more fun in wringing fear out of them than hurting them, and Dream hated that he could recognize it so easily.

Nightmare slightly tipped his head up, taking a good look at him as if he hadn't seen him enough times to consider him a familiar face; Dream's breath hitched. It didn't seem like Nightmare even remembered him, which would only make matters worse. Unless Ink somehow found him in the unexplored depths of Waterfall, he was done for.

**_"Well, breaking bones would be satisfying too."_ **

"No, N-Nightmare, please, it's me, I'm your br–"

A black hand covered his mouth before he could say anything else, with enough pressure to keep his head pinned. Dream flinched, tensed, thinking the action would result in an attack, but did not do anything afterwards. He didn't dare make a single move.

 **_"Be_ ** **quiet _. I don't want to hear your pathetic pleas."_**

Tears were welling in his eyes before he could realize, but even blinking was something Dream didn't have the courage to do. He was absolutely terrified, and shocked, and he didn't want to die. He knew he had to stay calm, he knew that he couldn't show Nightmare he was afraid or else he wouldn't stand a single chance, but it was literally impossible not to fall victim to that aura. He was so vulnerable against it, it completely consumed him with paralyzing fear; he would have been trying to escape and fight back at that point had it not been for it.

 ** _"I do want to know one thing, though."_** Nightmare seemed to smirk, and Dream tensed. At random intervals, he just wished he would kill him and get it over with; and as soon as those thoughts came, he kept hoping Nightmare would stall long enough for some life-saving event to occur. **_"There is a noticeable amount of energy coming from you, and it's not only fear... You don't happen to have one last apple,"_** Another tendril prodded at his chest, not gently on the slightest, before Nightmare continued, **_"do you?"_**

Dream shook his head however he could, and with certain desperation, whimpering. Nightmare must have sensed his core... and it would only give him more reasons to get rid of him. Especially if he decided to just take it instead of killing him first, like it had happened to his soul. He would be gone in an instant.

He suddenly regretted not letting Ink follow and stop him.

He suddenly regretted leaving in the first place.

Because he was going to die, and his brother would see everything, because he was perfectly aware of what that thing did with his broken, morphed body each and every second that ticked by. He could just imagine him, the Nightmare he knew, alone and trapped and begging that creature not to hurt his brother, only to go unheard by the whole world and being forced to watch him die.

Nightmare grinned. **_"Not like it matters. I'll figure out either way, since I'm going to destroy this little body of yours. Now,"_** He inched closer, and Dream couldn't hide the muffled whimpers that escaped from him as he stared into a single eye with his quivering own, trying to find any speck of hesitation that would tell him his real brother was right there, but it was a merciless glower and a sadistic grin that stared back. **_"How should I kill you?"_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhh  
> just know that i'm sorry


	16. Darkness Vanishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he deserved to be killed for promising something he was not able to uphold. If only, if just only he could see his brother again, if only he could hug him one last time before… before…

**_"I almost don't want to do this, you know."_ **

Terrified, impotent, panicked and horror-stricken were about the right words Dream would use to describe himself,  _if_  his thoughts were being rational enough to let him think of anything other than death being inches away from him. It had been far too long since he hadn't felt a dreadful aura of that magnitude so close to him, and he wasn't taking it all that well.

No matter how much he wanted to get the hell out of there, his body wouldn't respond, and it was something he had no control over; the only thing he could really do was dart his eyes around, watching the four exits on the other side and the hole above that led outside the labyrinthine cave they were in. Both of them were impossible to reach with Nightmare there, and he could only hope someone would dash through.

Dream would have tried his luck and readied himself to sprint out of there as soon as he felt he had a chance, but that irrational fear was stopping him, and he almost didn't even remember that the creature that was too close to him was, or used to be, his brother. It had become crystal clear that Nightmare had no idea who he was anymore, though; he was just a mere punching bag to him, and he would be treated as such.

Nightmare's other hand reached in, inching closer to his eyes. Dream squinted fearfully, trying to get away despite the hand clamping his mouth shut and keeping his head still, as the dark thumb wiped his tears away. Of course Nightmare would choose to torment him over killing him right away… it, appallingly enough, was not the first time Dream had been a victim of that.

**_"This fear radiating from you… it's so satisfying. But I still want to know what this energy you're hiding is, and unfortunately for you… there is only one way to find out."_ **

Nightmare retrieved his hand as a melting appendage trailed to the smaller skeleton’s shoulder, where it began to slowly, excruciatingly slowly, coil around his neck. Terrified eyes followed its movement, and Dream subconsciously tried to get away again, unintelligible muffled noises hiding his pleas as the unnaturally cold, black tendril completely surrounded his neck.

**_"Now, I don't want to hear a word from you."_ **

Nightmare removed the hand keeping him quiet and Dream recoiled, quietly gasping, his own hands holding on to the tendril threatening to strangle the life out of him at any moment. The coils tightened ever so slightly, a warning not to do anything he might regret. Despite the many things he wanted to say, he didn't dare to say a single one of them. Whatever it took to keep himself alive long enough for any kind of help to arrive.

 ** _"It's such a pity having to get rid of this fear... but at least, it'll be fun._** " Nightmare grinned in that unsettling way only he knew how to, the malicious grin that signified the beginning of pain or, if he felt merciful enough, certain death widening at the sight of shining terror. It was almost enough to make Dream shudder. ** _"For me, of course."_**

It was then, as Nightmare laughed coldly, when Dream learned he couldn't take it. He couldn't let his brother kill him, or anyone else. He couldn't let that thing turn him into a monster. He couldn't let that world get thrown down the drain. An era of terror would again fall upon every single living being, and there would never be any other chance for them.

…but he no longer was anyone to stop that. Was he? He was no longer in a world that depended on him. He could do nothing to protect something so vast. He was… nothing but a skeleton who could not think right. He was not what he used to be, and what he used to be was not him. He was only a spectator… and that hurt more than anything he had ever gone through. He was a mere ant against that creature.

Nightmare was what made him truly happy… and without him…

. . . he didn't want to lose him . . .

Grieving tears continued to trail down his cheekbones, and eyes brimming with powerful sadness looked into the single one that was boring into him with nothing but murderous intent; it probably was the last thing he would ever see… and it would forever replace the mellow, lavender eyes of his brother. It felt like he hadn't seen them in forever, like that memory had been completely ripped out of his mind and torn apart.

He'd promised him he would not rest until he was happy… He'd promised him he would never let anything happen to him…

"Nightmare… you have to come back…" A sob escaped from the appalled skeleton to accompany his dismayed, whispering voice. " _Please_ …"

Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he deserved to be killed for promising something he was not able to uphold. If only, if just only he could see his brother again, if only he could hug him one last time before…  _before_ …

The grin the melting creature sported disappeared as fast as it had appeared, replaced by an annoyed scowl that, undoubtedly, went through a fleeting stage of confusion first. Dream was so desperate to find any traits of his lost sibling that he didn't miss it at all, but that was why the snarl that came straight afterwards scared him even more so.

**_"I ͝t̕old you̢ not̛ ͡to s̨p͡eak!͝"̡_ **

In a mere moment, he was harshly pinned against the wall beside him, Nightmare's grip tightening straight after and tearing a strained cry from the other skeleton as the back of his skull received a worrying impact; he felt and heard the nerve-racking crack. The pressure cut off his air instantly, and Dream was left struggling against his brother's relentless hold as he approached him again.

He'd made him angry, and his chances of surviving had been reduced to less than zero.

His brother was gone.

 ** _"You're not listening to me, are you?"_** Nightmare growled, though the only response he got was the other skeleton sputtering and writhing. Not like he'd expected any actual answer.  ** _"Tsk, that simply won't do… I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson."_**

"W-wait–!"

He then whirled around, slamming Dream against the ground before him as he did so with brutal force. The impact sent dust flying and elicited a new strained yelp from the smaller skeleton; that was yet another solid crash of his skull against tough, rocky material, and to make matters worse, he was winded by the impact, instantly losing the air he needed. Dream coughed subconsciously, though he could only end up wheezing weakly.

Nightmare watched him without a single speck of remorse over his actions. He was a stranger to him, after all, someone that deserved to be hurt, to be killed.  ** _"You silly, silly skeleton. I didn't want to make you go through a slow death, but you left me no choice."_** He easily lifted the other skeleton in the air, tightening his grip as he did so.  ** _"Maybe you'll learn to actually listen."_**

Dream gasped for air, clawing at the melting appendage and thrashing and doing everything he could to relieve the pressure for even a single second, but it was all in vain. Dizziness was coming in too quickly after the impact against the ground that had purposefully knocked the wind out of him.

He wanted to try and reason with Nightmare despite knowing it probably would not do much, but he was afraid to utter a single word; what little air he managed to take in was too valuable to waste it on pleas that would fall on deaf ears, but he couldn't stand the thought of that same disaster happening all over again. Dream wasn't even worried about himself, but about everyone else. Nightmare would go on his merry way to cause chaos again, and people would suffer, and if he found the trees… he didn't even want to think about it.

But he was a bystander. He could do nothing, and soon enough, no one would ever even know he had once existed if luck didn't stay by his side.

Nightmare continued to watch silently, smirking, as his brother's life slowly vanished. The more he tried to struggle against his grasp, the more the pressure increased, and had he not been desperately fighting for his life, Dream would have questioned how his neck wasn't broken yet.

Small as it was, he still held on to the hope that someone, anyone, would find him before his world went black. He was trying, but he wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer...

* * *

Damn it, damn it, and damn it again; if Ink didn't know himself, he wouldn't have been able to believe he had forgotten what the Ruins' structure looked like. He had gotten lost so easily, he and the three other skeletons who were not known for being Underground explorers, and subsequently also lost Dream in the span of a few seconds after taking off after him. It took them a little too long to even get out of that maze; it was a miracle they had found the original Toriel halfway through it along other doppelgangers of her, otherwise Ink wasn't sure they would have found the way in or out until a couple hundred years had passed by.

The goat monsters were able to tell them the exact direction Dream had taken and that he had headed off to Snowdin in a rush; from there, they had lost sight of him as he'd ventured into the white forest. It was luck that the Snowdin forest wasn't all that complex, and besides, Ink didn't think Dream would have any logical reason to purposefully get lost in the woods, unless he just wanted to be left completely alone. Considering what had happened, it would make sense that he wanted some time to cope, even though the fact that the Underground was the most packed place in that whole afterlife dismissed that theory.

It was also luck that there were a lot of people in there, and that nearly all of them had seen the distraught skeleton run past. Ink and the other three had been guided to the town, and from there had been told that Dream had run straight into Waterfall. For a moment, Ink had the dreadful feeling that he was trying to find the Tree of Life, because why else would he dash through the entire Underground right after he'd realized his brother had been kidnapped by its sole guardian?

It was only a thought, but he would have to check. If Dream was indeed looking for that tree and actually found it, he would most definitely find himself in serious, probably deadly trouble. Or maybe not, but he was no seer, and he was not taking any chances.

The only problem was… he had completely forgotten where he had found it. And he mentally smacked himself for that, because he really should have written its location down. Lanny  _did_ ask him to keep a mental note of where it was, even. He really hoped Dream wouldn't find it before he did, if that was his intention. Just to be safe.

"Alright, so…"

The four skeletons stood at the beginning of that huge, labyrinthine area, already having been told by those around that Dream had run off into the distance like crazy, clearly looking for something. Ink could only hope the people they'd find would have been as attentive as all the others, otherwise they might not have the time to find him before something lamentable happened. Maybe the echo flowers could help, too.

Ink was really trying to remember himself walking in the day he'd found the Tree of Life, trying to envision the paths he had taken, even though such thing wasn't particularly easy since he hadn't been looking for anything in particular, just wandering around. He was pretty sure he had been walking for quite a while when he found it and that it was deep in Waterfall, though, and that was where being four as opposed to only one came in handy.

"I'm 90% sure Dream went to look for that Tree of Life or whatever, and I have no idea where it is, so we've gotta split." Ink turned to look at the dark Papyrus clones. They didn't seem precisely happy with the growing tension, and understandably so; Ink wasn't either. "Each of you go a different direction. Look everywhere you can, this place is huge. I know you're not very familiar with the Underground, but…" The artist couldn't hide his worry, "We have to try, okay?"

 ** _"you've got it!"_** 82 pulled a reassuring smile. He was not too sure of it himself, but his helpful spirit truly shined through. They had no way of knowing if something dangerous could happen, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that Dream and his brother had gone through about enough to have their world ruined by some lunatic. Who knew, maybe they found Nightmare too and everything would turn out just fine.

 ** _"yeah, you can count on us."_** 40 proudly stated afterwards, and Ink returned the brittle smile.

 ** _"then let's get going, ya clowns!"_** 2 commanded, not in a serious way though unable to hold off the urge to bark orders – in a friendly manner, of course; he tended to do that whenever 1 wasn't around, it was a habit of his. 40 would have taken it a little better had the taller skeleton not patted him in the back with more force than necessary, but he was well used to it.

The three spread, and Ink turned his attention to the large halls and waterfalls ahead of him, looking at them like one would look at the most complicated of equations without having ever heard of the word 'math'. He sighed, both confident and concerned, before he went on his way; he really hoped things were not going in a direction as wrong as he thought they were. "Please, just be fine…"

* * *

More than two torturous minutes had gone by, and yet Dream was still trying to set himself free. Nightmare found it as amusing as he found it tiresome, but at least the dying skeleton was still radiating fear and desperation from which he could feed on until he stopped moving altogether. He found it interesting, how attached the little skeleton was to life. He couldn't help but wonder why he even bothered, for there was nothing after death.

Nightmare pulled Dream closer, mindful of keeping him just far enough to avoid any desperate kicks, and pained eyes barely breached open to look at him. The dark skeleton tilted his head in amusement; judging by his weakening attempts at loosening the asphyxiating grip, he wouldn't survive another two minutes. Might as well make it just a tad more fun.

 ** _"Well? How's it hanging, little buddy?"_**  he taunted. Dream was getting too lightheaded to even focus on him, every little breath he managed to take short and labored.  ** _"You don't look so good. Need some fresh air?"_**

Nightmare chuckled, just as Dream's vision began to blur as the coils around his neck gave one last, firm squeeze. He clenched his eyes shut, his chest aching as he continued to fight, but no matter the amount of desperation, he couldn't escape that deadly hold.

**_"Come on, stop trying. You're only making it worse."_ **

But Dream didn't. He didn't stop trying, he  _couldn't_  stop trying, he needed air, he needed to breathe,  _he needed to live...-_

The dizziness became too much. His entire body began to feel numb against his panicked will and Dream gradually stopped thrashing, even though his hands, trembling, were still holding on to the tightening tendril, but no longer pulling and tugging. He was losing consciousness, and fast. Nightmare realized soon enough.

**_"Done already?"_ **

He pulled him yet closer when he made sure he wouldn't have the strength to try and kick or punch him, observing as his eyes blinked unsteadily, as his pupils lost the spark of life through weakening, strained noises. It brought a sickening, crooked smile to his face.

**_"Good, then sleep... it looks like you need it."_ **

That cold, heartless chuckle was the last thing Dream heard, distorted just like what the rest of the world looked like to him. He could no longer feel his body at all and his hands lost their grip, arms falling limply to his sides after one single, quiet, whispering wheeze. His eyes followed, blinking once, twice... then remaining closed.

But he was not dead yet, only unconscious. Nightmare was not going to let go until he was holding nothing but dust.

He brought a hand up to his chin, tipping his head up like he weighed less than a feather, observing him. There was no reaction from Dream; he had completely blacked out, and only fleeting seconds defined the barrier between unconsciousness and death.  ** _"Just a few more seconds, I'll figure out what this energy of yours is..."_**

And then, there was a sharp pang of pain on the back of his neck. Then another.

The initial shock was short-lived, though Nightmare flinched with a grunt at the sudden sting, unable to see what it was that had pricked at him. A tentacle reached out to remove the unwanted objects, however the itch they left didn't disappear even after the two feathers were plucked off.

He brought them to his sight with a growl; all squeezed together, their quills snapped and their barbs ruffled, courtesy of the irate grasp. An expression of anger at the audacity of someone having attacked him turned into confusion, because it was difficult for him to understand how exactly a couple of mere feathers had actually caused him pain.

Not, not a couple. Four. No, five– six… too many multiplying, blurring feathers…

He felt really tired all of a sudden, instantly unable to focus properly on anything, no matter how close or far away it was. He felt way too tired for his own liking, and he had no idea why. And not understanding made him angry, but he couldn't suppress that need to just stop everything, he couldn't fight the exhaustion that was suddenly consuming his entire being as steadily as that black mass that surrounded him had poisoned his mind.

He dropped both Dream and the feathers when he suddenly lacked the strength to even keep the light skeleton in the air, stepping back as it became hard to even stand. Dream toppled motionlessly to the floor, and had he not been supposed to turn to dust after death, anyone would have thought he was gone – he was not conscious enough to take in the air he desperately needed, though his body kept him breathing, extremely weakly so.

Nightmare stumbled into the wall, leaning against it for support. He was suddenly so heavy and dazed, and his vision was blurring out. He thought he could see some figures that hadn't been there before, but they kept blending in with everything else and he was in no position to recognize anyone.

"I leave you for five minutes and you are already trying to kill people... how disrespectful."

Nightmare didn't quite hear him, though it wasn't something Quetzalcoatl had expected. He had also expected him to destroy something, or kill whoever happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time – odd as that was, since he had given Kamea clear instructions to dispose of whoever got too close to the Tree when he wasn't around, – but he had not expected the sole victim to be his brother.

"I told you he'd be back," Kamea commented with a noticeable hint of disinterest, and the guardian had to cast a glance on the unconscious skeleton, calmly as Nightmare no longer posed a threat. He needed him alive, but he wasn't too worried about him; he would most definitely live.

"He's quite the character, isn't he?" Quetzalcoatl muttered to himself. He couldn't help it; sometimes, he had to admire Dream and his unique way of thinking. And his resilience, too. He was undoubtedly strong, in his own way; he had gone through so much, and yet he always found a way to keep holding on – not everyone could have the luck to say they had encountered an irrational Nightmare and lived to tell the tale with barely a scratch. "Tried his best to find this place just to be with his brother again... You don't see this much dedication anymore. And his endurance is admirable… he will surely be a good servant when the time comes."

Despite the praise, though, the guardian turned to look at Kamea with what almost looked like annoyance before he would focus on the other melting skeleton trying not to lose his own consciousness. It was an intense glare, and the human clearly hesitated when it came to making eye contact. "But we do have to wonder how he got here so fast. He must have known where to look." His eyes narrowed, slit-shaped pupils growing thinner. "You haven't let anyone know about or whereabouts, now have you?"

The human dithered nervously, attitude changing completely from lax to agitated. "No, Master. There was no one as far as I know."

Quetzalcoatl gave his wavering answer a thought, before deeming it a matter for later on, for there were more important things to pay attention to. The forked tongue flicked out as the reptilian guardian drew his attention back to Nightmare, not without giving Kamea one last side glance. "I put too much trust in you sometimes. I don't want you failing me, Kamea."

He abled toward the dark skeleton, still awake despite the relentless fatigue trying to take over him; Nightmare wasn't about to be bested by some subconscious feeling of being tired, even though it was way too strong for his liking and he couldn't see clearly anymore. He did see the approaching, humanoid figure, though, and he strongly felt like he recognized it despite the haze preventing him from seeing things clearly. He recognized it, and for some reason, he hated that presence as unexplainably as tiredness consumed his mind.

"My, look at you... Must be so much better than being a useless skeleton, mh?"

Nightmare growled, trying to focus his attention on the figure in front of him before it would blur out completely. **_"Why you–..."_**

He tried to stand up, but his body thought it was too much strain for how tired he was, and he fell to his knees as soon as he pushed himself off the wall. He didn't feel like he was going to be able to get back up, and fatigue was finally overpowering him with clear success.

Watching him, Quetzalcoatl picked up the crumpled feathers, culprits of the skeleton's state, and gave him a calculative look. Two feathers, and still conscious... a perfect result. He had eaten the right amount of apples, not enough to be unstoppable and ridiculously powerful but enough to hold his own and be the owner of incredible power, just less than the first time he had been corrupted. He didn't think he would have gotten the right amount of magic to produce that exact number of fruits; one less or one more and the result might not have been as satisfying. It had been luck, and delightful luck at that.

With a content chuckle, the guardian approached Nightmare without the slightest hint of fear even despite his aura, which was undoubtedly weakening along with him. "We'll have to see what we do with you once you calm down. Wouldn't want a rampaging beast around."

Nightmare weakly looked up at him, and he loathed that feeling of impotence, but he lacked the strength to get up.

"Get back to the Tree, Kamea. If anyone comes by, ignore them. Let them find the little guy."

"Are we not going to take him yet?"

"Not until his brother has calmed down. We'll let him enjoy freedom for now... but get him out of here. That's close enough."

It was all Nightmare heard before purple smoke surrounded him, and then everything was black.


	17. In Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He made an extremely vague attempt at shrugging, and kept his eyes fixated on the ground. He couldn't even mind the fact that he was worrying Ink more and more every second.
> 
> ...he truly was a failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to keep up with the fast updates but hngggg  
> screw school

"so, what was that all about?"

Blueberry was the first to prance in while his brother chose to wait, expecting a reaction from the negative-colored trio. Just as Blueberry had predicted, Error had gone to the far end of the village, behind the rocks and mini-waterfalls Ink, ironically, had created there. It was a small spot right between isolated and inhabited where he and his Papyrus and Undyne liked to spend their time in. They never were ones to like excessive company, so that little place was good enough when they no longer felt like walking around, observing a world that was suddenly changing for the worse.

The other two skeletons came in the middle of a relatively quiet conversation, not counting Undyne's inability to keep a low voice tone; they could hear her voice glitching into growls by her volume from a mile away, especially since it was still nighttime and everything was pretty quiet, which also gave them an idea of where to find them in the first place. Error was sitting down, legs crossed, with his brother next to him, listening with an uncertain mixture of attention and confusion to the eerie warrior who seemed to just be rambling and venting as usual.

Well, it was mostly only Papyrus that was listening; Error seemed submerged in his own world, though he raised his gaze every once in a while to pretend he was actually paying attention. His Undyne tended to forget that he still retained haphephobia and would tackle him into a supposedly friendly noogie when she felt like he wasn't listening, and he really wanted nothing to do with that.

Especially not after certain, not so past events.

He barely even acknowledged Blueberry or his brother at first, which was a shrieking sign that something was just not right with him, but he still gave the two of them a vague side-glance knowing that the almost rhetorical question was for him. He didn't really answer, though. Not with real words, anyway; he just hummed absentmindedly before turning his gaze back to the ground, trying to make it clear that he wasn't interested in random chit-chat. He didn't say anything either when Blueberry sat next to him.

 **"Let me tell you,"**  the bizarre Undyne offered to answer Papyrus' question with a small flair, and the skeleton clad in orange exhaled a small puff of smoke as he pulled down his cigar.  **"This is about a jerk, and a stubborn _dork_."**

She raised her tone accusingly whilst glancing at the only other skeleton remaining from her discarded universe, and Error only responded with a disinterested huff, almost offended.  **"sure."**

Undyne frowned at him momentarily.  **" _You_ 're the stubborn dork, y'know. Not as much of a jerk."**

 **"i _know_. and by the way, 'jerk' is an understatement." ** Error didn't feel like it was right to speak his mind in front of his brother or Blueberry. Sensitive ears. Or, lack thereof.

 **"AH, COME ON."**  his equally mismatched brother tried to reassure him, and he really, really resisted the urge to pat his back; he had already raised his gloved hand to do so before he could realize, and exchanged the unfinished action for a vague gesture instead.  **"YOU'RE JUST OVERTHINKING IT. EVERYONE ARGUES SOMETIMES, IT'S NOTHING TO BE TOO WORRIED ABOUT. MOREOVER, IT'S WORSE WHEN YOU KEEP THINKING ABOUT IT INSTEAD OF MOVING ON!"**

 **"if it was a one-time thing, maybe."**  Error answered bitterly.  **"but that was- what, the millionth time he's blamed me for something or ridiculed me _out of spite_? give me a break."**

He almost childishly crossed his arms, trying to drown out any further conversation with a forced gruff expression that tried to prove a point. Blueberry didn't really fall for it, but he was worried either way. "YOU DID KINDA, MAYBE, UH... LOSE IT A LITTLE, THOUGH." he sheepishly started, trying to word it with some sugarcoating as to not instigate.

Error looked at him through the corner of his eye with that expression of indignation Blueberry knew was also forced but natural at the same time, before averting his gaze.  **"i'm not some plaything. i'm gonna treat him the same way he treats me, period."**

"that'll help," Papyrus deadpanned before taking another languid drag from his cigarette. His brother glanced over his shoulder to look at him with accusingly narrowed eyes before he turned his attention back to Error, who was not far from giving the taller skeleton the same look.

Papyrus sighed, walking toward them. "look, what i mean is, we really don't need trouble right now. ink is stubborn, yeah, we all know that. that's exactly why you should ignore him. retaliating is only going to end up badly for him, for you, and for us. and we already have enough stuff to be worried about."

 **"He's right, y'know."**  Undyne commented, flicking some loose blue bangs away from her empty eyes.  **"Who cares? You be you, what's the point of listening to what some cheap Van Gogh has to say?"**

Error looked up at her with incredulous, narrowed eyes, and waited a second before speaking.  **"that's what i've been trying to do ever since i set foot in this place, thank you very much."**  he hissed, averting his gaze again.

"LOOK, WE'LL JUST TALK TO HIM, OKAY?" Blueberry offered, giving him a little smile even though Error wasn't looking. "I'M SURE HE HAS OTHER THINGS TO PAY ATTENTION TO NOW. HE WAS JUST STRESSED, NO WONDER IT GOT SO FAR."

Error still did not make eye contact. He took in a breath, held it, released it slowly.  **"…sure."**

 **"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU SHOULD DO NOW?"**  his Papyrus asked, rather loudly.  **"YOU SHOULD TAKE A MOMENT TO RELAX AND APOLOGIZE TO NIM. I'M OF COURSE NOT IMPLYING IT WAS YOUR FAULT, BUT YOU KIND OF MADE AN UNNECESSARY MESS."**

 **"I'd do that."**  Undyne backed him up, rather carelessly though.  **"And if you do that and see Mr. Bony Rainbow around, I’ll kick his ass for you, okay?!"**

"LET'S NOT DO THAT," Blueberry held his hands up, smiling sheepishly – he missed Error frowning at Undyne as if seriously considering her offer, because in all honesty, he wouldn't mind. The small skeleton looked back at Error, "BUT REALLY THOUGH, IT'S A GOOD IDEA. AND MAYBE YOU CAN ALSO TALK IT OUT MORE CALMLY WITH HER." Blueberry gave Error a reassuring grin when he finally made eye contact. "TRUST ME, IF SOMEONE CAN CHANGE INK, IT'S HER. DON'T DELVE TOO MUCH ON IT."

Error pondered for a while. He really hadn't meant to lash out like that; it still felt as right as it felt wrong. He knew something was not quite right with himself, so maybe he did need the help of someone who knew the inner workings of emotions better than anyone ever could. And some more time to think things through as well. Preferably, maybe, without his Undyne; her habit to screech instead of just talk and her urges to noogie him or smack him in the back were more than a little distracting. Maybe Ink could prove himself actually useful for once by keeping her busy.

They were all right, in a way, and he knew that. The world they lived in was in potential danger, and he didn't want to be a distraction. Ink could do whatever the hell he wanted, but he refused to be a bother. He had a strong, strong aversion to it for some reason, almost abnormal.

He felt like he was constantly forgetting something.

 **"okay. fine."** he intoned as he stood up, Blueberry doing so along with him with a curious look.  **"i'll apologize and whatever. i just wanted to have one normal day, please..."**

Undyne pondered about the meaning of 'normal', and pouted.  **"So no ass-kicking?"**

The other Papyrus gave her a look. "we'll save that for later." A short drag of his cigar. "though i might back you up on that if he acts stupid."

His brother lightly elbowed him, and he grinned. "just kidding, bro. maybe. c'mon, let's go."

Undyne of course got the head start, leaving the others behind in the blink of an eye. Blueberry couldn’t help another look at Error, who seemed to hesitate before following the others. “ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY, THOUGH?” he inquired, slightly frowning. It seemed like quite the sudden change of mind to him, an act to be left alone.

 **“yeah. just fine.”** Error almost used a singsong tone as he walked past the other skeleton. It still seemed a little forced for Blueberry, even though it had been quite hard to read Error ever since he came there. **“no worries. it’s true, right? everyone argues sometimes.”**

* * *

". . . am. . . !"

"D . . . am. . . !"

_"Dream. . . !"_

Consciousness suddenly came back to the motionless skeleton. Too suddenly, maybe, like a pesky static shock that rattled his entire body. The first thing Dream felt was a humongous headache that was not willing to let him feel anything else, and he saw the world spinning incessantly even though it was clearly not. That throbbing pain in his head was all he could really be aware of, and his limbs were completely numb and he wouldn't have known if he was moving them or not.

He groaned shakily, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tried to regain movement to no avail, because each time he moved, his spinning head sent waves of nausea and utter discomfort that kept him right where he was.

He realized there was a hand on his shoulder, and also realized he could barely breathe, which was why he started coughing the moment he unsuccessfully attempted to push himself up. His chest hurt almost as badly as his head, and the daze simply would not go away.

As he continued to cough, unable to really do anything else, he heard an exasperated sigh right next to him and the hand that rested on his shoulder was removed along with it; the feeling of the world spinning faster than a hyperactive spinning top seemed to be only growing and it hurt to look around, so he was unable to identify whoever that was.

"Gosh  _darn it_ , Dream, don't  _ever_  scare me like that again…"

After the coughing fit finally ceased, Dream dared to slowly blink his eyes open, adjusting to the almost nonexistent light and trying to focus on the figure beside him. Everything sounded rather muffled, but he was quick enough to put two and two together and realize it was Ink who was there with him – judging only by the sound of his voice, because his vision was still swimming.

He was so stunned he couldn't even express his relief with the much needed company. His mind only wanted him to focus on breathing, hard enough as it was.

"W-what…" he tried to ask, though he soon found out that his voice was painfully strained and he had to stop himself for a moment, coughing again. He couldn't hold off his curiosity, however, and tried to raise his gaze again to give the other skeleton eye contact. "What h-happened…?"

Ink, who was on his knees trying to get the other skeleton back to consciousness, sat back, attempting without much success to relax. He was still not over the fright he had been given, and he wouldn't be anytime soon; one moment he was walking through Waterfall looking everywhere for Dream with 82, the next they turned a corner and saw the one skeleton they were dead worried about laying motionlessly on the floor, barely breathing and bleeding from the cracks on the back of his skull. He wasn't one to be pessimistic, but Ink had really thought he had lost him.

Dream had fortunately stopped bleeding as soon as he shot back to consciousness, which gave Ink enough proof to reassure he would survive, but it was a fair reason to be worried anyway: he was hurt and had been this close to death. They weren't safe there, and something bad had indeed happened.

"Well, honestly…" the artist started, watching attentively as Dream managed to sit up, though slowly and dizzily as the headache hammered in his skull like drums of war. He had to fully rely on the support of his arms in order not to keel over, and needed to breathe deeply at all times; it was the only thing that was driving his infernal lightheadedness away. "I have no idea. There was no one with you when we got here."

Ink didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing himself. They could be being watched, something could be lurking in the dark waiting to ambush them and kill two birds with one stone. It was the reason Ink kept looking around him, and it was too bad he hadn't seen the other two specters yet. He felt a little too vulnerable for his own liking, especially with Dream as weak as he was.

Dream tried without much success to find someone else with Ink at the mention of 'we', only then becoming aware of the other presence as the blur began to go away; a dark figure that nearly made his nonexistent heart jump, but that he immediately after realized was not Nightmare.

He remembered everything perfectly, yes. He remembered each and every single thing that had happened in perfect detail, his brother screaming and  _breaking_  and that monster taking his place and trying to kill him, and then the world fading to black for what felt like an eternity. He remembered each and every single thing he’d felt, each and every thought that had crossed his panicked mind.

It was beyond awful to have those memories and be unable to push them away.

They had been in a cave. Near the Tree of Life. But he was not in a cave anymore. He was not where he had been before-  _where_ was _he?_  And most importantly, where  _was_  Nightmare– or, rather, the  _thing_ that claimed to be Nightmare? Why had he not killed him?  _What had even happened?_

As his vision fully stopped swimming and the world around him began to cease spinning motionlessly, Dream looked around him. He still felt vertigo just by making a motion as small as that, like he had woken up from an eternal sleep. He brought a careful hand to the back of his skull as he observed his surroundings, wincing as the cracks stung in reaction to the soft contact.

"Really, you okay though?" Ink asked him, and Dream barely registered his voice at first.

"I… think so…" he managed to reply, his voice still strained. He blinked a few times, trying to figure out where he was and why he wasn't where he had been before and why Nightmare hadn't ended him and where he had gone. It didn't make any sense, nothing made sense, he shouldn't be there, he shouldn't be alive… "W-wait, Nightmare- where is he?"

Ink was slightly taken aback by the weak yet concerned question, and 82 kneeled beside the artist with growing confusion as Ink narrowed his eyes in thought. "You... you found him?"

Dream didn't answer in any way. Instead, he just stopped looking around and remained still for a few seconds, and any words he could have tried to let out died off the moment they formed. He just lowered his gaze, slowly, his voice lost all of a sudden.

He didn't find him.

He'd lost him.

He had completely lost him and he was not getting him back.

Upon realizing something was terribly wrong, and overcome by the strength of the tense atmosphere, Ink decided it was time to get out of there and ask questions later, when they were not alone and potentially too close to a couple of lunatics. He didn't want to risk the three of them getting intercepted before they could even know what had struck them, and Dream already seemed in good enough condition to at least walk.

"Look, we've gotta get out of here." Ink stood up, casting a glance at the distant blue glow before helping Dream to his feet; he was predictably unsteady, but tagged along. 82 got up along with them. "You can tell me on the way, but we're not staying here one more second."

Slightly leaning against the other skeleton until he knew he could hold his own balance, Dream gazed at the distant tree almost in trance. He was where he had first found it... and that simply did not make any sense. Nothing made sense anymore...

...maybe... maybe it was just a bad dream...

…but he knew it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

"I-... I don't... I don't really want to talk about it..." the caped skeleton sighed, moving a hand across the cracks in the back of his skull again. It didn't hurt as much as it did before, but he would definitely need to have that looked at. It was a miracle it had only been a minor injury... All things considered, it could have been much, _much_ worse.

All that was left for him to do was question what exactly had happened, and most importantly, _how_.

Ink gave him a small, reassuring pat in the shoulder once he was sure he could stand upright without help; he was still a little dizzy, but nothing compared to the thunderous headache he had come back to reality with. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to. What really matters is that you're fine. You had us pretty worried there."

"...sorry." Dream mumbled, barely audible, as his gaze moved further down almost in shame.

He'd just ruined everything.

Ink couldn't help giving Dream a worried look before he turned to look at the other skeleton, who had been attentively listening. Both had the same thought: something was very, _very_ wrong, and it seemed like it was on its way to become worse if they didn’t start moving. "You know the way back, right?" Ink asked the dark skeleton, almost fearfully. He knew for a fact he had already forgotten where he had and hadn't been, and he really would need to make a map or something.

82 nodded, thankfully, **_"yeah, i've got an idea. you can wait here if you want while i fetch the others. you know, if- if he needs to rest."_**

Ink directed another short glance at Dream before answering. While it was an option, he too needed some rest, honestly. There was no denying he had been walking for an hour at least, and the tension had only contributed to his tiredness. A couple minutes would not hurt anyone... "I guess we could... as long as we stay away from that thing." And another short but spiteful glance at the tree in the distance.

 ** _"it won't take long, i know where they are."_** 82 reassured. **_"uh, more or less."_**

The artist nodded in acknowledgement, leaning against the wall. "Okay, we'll do that–"

**_“aha! found you!”_ **

Then 40 came seemingly out of nowhere, jumping off from the small ledge he had been standing on for an unknown amount of time. None of the three skeletons would deny his sudden appearance hadn’t startled them, but all of them shrugged it off pretty quickly.

 ** _“never mind then.”_** 82 deadpanned as the other joined them.

**_“and i see you found the lil’ guy too. good! i guess?”_ **

“Well…” Ink shifted a little, nervously. Dream didn't raise his gaze again once he let it down, and he didn’t even seem to actually acknowledge that 40 was even there. “I wouldn’t say ‘good’ just yet, but something’s something.” He brushed off the worry then, “At least now we can walk away from this place, because who needs rest anyway. It’s giving me the creeps. Who offers as guide?”

 ** _“oh! me!”_** 82 sprang up enthusiastically, raising his hand as high up as it could go; 40 flinched at his reaction, directing him a questioning frown, though Ink had to smile at his predictable ardor. **_“and that means-“_** 82 whirled around, pointing a sharp digit at the other skeleton. **_“_ you _go fetch 2!”_**

**_“eh, sure– hey, wait, what?”_ **

**_“let’s go!”_ **

40’s shoulders drooped with a moody sigh, but he guessed there was not much else for him to do for the time being. Better go find the last one; he would surely instigate if he found himself in trouble of any kind, and nobody needed that. At least he remembered where he had last seen him, a few minutes ago.

As 40 morphed into a dark cloud of smoke and sprinted off and 82 strolled past them, Dream just silently followed their newfound guide without raising his gaze, just before Ink could make sure he really was okay enough to walk all the way back. The little smile the artist had vanished in the blink of an eye.

“…Dream?”

The skeleton stopped walking, slowly as he was, but it took him a moment to look behind him – and when he did, it only came out as a weak side-glance. 82 had stopped to wait for them, and his own smile disappeared as well. It didn’t seem like acting cheerful was working out, either, which was rather worrisome. Normally Dream would play along, but that time he’d barely even paid attention to him.

Ink walked toward Dream, and the other skeleton averted his gaze when he was next to him. “Seriously, what happened?”

His tone was stern, heavily concerned, yet it was also patient and somewhat fearful, and it only brought a sting of guilt to Dream as he lightly narrowed his eyes deep in thought. He didn’t want to worry anyone, but he couldn’t help it…

He made an extremely vague attempt at shrugging, and kept his eyes fixated on the ground. He couldn't even mind the fact that he was worrying Ink more and more every second.

...he truly was a failure.

“…everything.”

His voice was monotone and barely rose above a whisper, and that was all Dream had to say before he started walking again, neither Ink nor 82 moving from where they were as he went on without them even though he didn’t know where the way back was.

The two remaining skeletons looked at each other with knowing eyes full of unease, before they followed along.

Ink would have normally paid more attention to his surroundings, but he was too focused on Dream and whatever had collapsed his mood to that extent to do so. He, then, never saw the heterochromatic eyes of green and blue that glowed oddly in the dark observing them from behind in the shadows, and neither did he see the glint of a dagger as the light of the blue crystals illuminated it when the figure prowled back into the darkness.

* * *

"...OH."

The four skeletons and the fish warrior didn't really know what they were expecting. Their plan was to get Error to apologize for causing a little scene and then relax for a while, maybe even manage to get him to apologize to Ink as well and viceversa. The rain had completely ceased by the time they’d reached the Tree and Blueberry in particular was positive things would be just fine with a little talk.

Not a single one of them had expected to find Nim so worried and distressed, staring intently in the direction of the Underground and barely even acknowledging their presence, and much less expected her to tell them Dream had run off when asked what had happened. Error didn't even manage to say what he was there to say before a general worry set in and everyone's plans for the rest of the day drastically changed.

It, of course, started out as confusion rather than any sort of panic. Hearing that Dream had run away of his own accord was much better than hearing he had been taken away or someone had been hurt, certainly, but it still didn’t mean anything good, though it didn’t exactly mean anything _bad_ either.

"WELL, UM-" Blueberry paced uncertainly, taken completely by surprise. He gazed at the Underground every once in a while, hoping to see the missing skeleton come out of it before real worry set in, but the only thing he saw was the gentle light of the sunrise covering the puddle-filled ground. "MAYBE HE JUST- WANTED TO BE ALONE FOR A WHILE."

_"He was trying to find Nightmare. The Tree of Life is in the Underground."_

The answer was immediate, decisive almost even if Nim was not completely sure of Dream’s intentions despite his telltale mumbling, and it put a worse twist on the whole situation. Too much of a worse twist on it, and Blueberry suddenly couldn't stay on the less dangerous side of the options he had to imagine why Dream would have decided to sprint into the Underground all by himself.

He barely paid enough attention to Undyne saying something behind them, something along the lines of _‘I knew something was gonna happen’_ and whatnot, as he looked intently into the Underground just as the dryad took her anxious gaze off of it for what seemed like the first time in hours. His brother walked over to his side, and he glanced up at him in mild hopes he’d know what to do, because he was already lost when it came to ideas.

“…how long ago?” Papyrus quietly asked, wondering if he should just go fetch him. Normally it would not have been anything to truly worry about, but it was no longer a time to go around wandering alone, even if most of that world’s population was in the Underground.

Nim hesitated before answering, still trying to remain calm like she had been trying to for likely well over an hour since she was left stuck without knowing what to do and what not to do. The internal fight to consider any choice she had right was still raging on, and it wasn’t letting her think straight; and yet, she still would not dare leave the Tree unattended to go find Dream herself. That was no longer an option.

 _“Too long.”_ she finally said, casting back a glare at the trench in the ground that suddenly seemed so far away. If only, if just only she could leave for five seconds to check on him, make sure everything was alright, make sure that he hadn’t wiled himself into doing anything stupid that he could’ve thought was an acceptable idea, but it was impossible.

Damn that feathered guardian.

“should we go look for him?”

Eye contact was briefly made, and again it took Nim a moment of hesitation to answer. She didn’t want anyone else getting into trouble if there was bound to be any, even though it was already a little too late for that considering Dream had been seen and followed; she didn’t know if she was more thankful than she was concerned about that.

 _“Ink and the specters already went to look for him.”_ Nim explained, also having in mind that all of them had been gone for quite some time as well. She would have expected at least one of the three dark skeletons to come back up and tell her where Dream was if they’d found him or tell her that he wasn’t around if they hadn’t, but that did not happen. _“I would rather not put anyone else in danger… if there is any.”_

There probably was, all things considered, but it was certainly better not to think about it that way even though it wasn’t easy to do so.

 **“BUT…”** the odd-colored Papyrus chimed in, taking a step forth. **“ISN’T INK RIGHT THERE?”**

Confusion set in, and all gazes panned over to the tall and confused skeleton before following his intent stare in the direction of the Underground from which they had only taken their attention off of for a few seconds. There were people around it, as usual, up and going to greet the day after quite the eventful storm, but ahead of them and walking toward them was also Ink along with the three specters, and someone else timid and crestfallen behind him.

The guardian gasped silently, and many eyes widened at the unexpected sight that looked like a mirage. Blueberry couldn’t hold off a sigh, and he was even gladder to see that none of the five seemed to be hurt; a little shaken, perhaps, but fine enough for him to let go of his distress.

Error’s first reaction was to stay behind his brother just like Dream stayed behind Ink, though; the latter was probably not happy to see him there, and he wasn’t either, but it definitely was not the time to go around arguing and causing trouble. Nobody would be happy about that, and he definitely was not in the mood for more discussions; if his Undyne still wanted to take the argument into her own hands, he’d let her be, but he was not participating.

“Hey,” Ink quietly started, almost shyly. There was an understandable silence after their disappearance; Ink had tried to return as quickly as was possible in order not to worry anyone more than it was necessary, but the way back had been unavoidably slow considering Dream was not in the mood to make a run for it, and did not have the energy to either. “I’ve… found someone. Heh.”

Ink tried to add a little reassuring smile to let everyone know that nothing major had happened, not that he knew of at least, even though Dream’s stance was a great contrast to his attempt at keeping the others calm. The smaller skeleton was barely peeking from behind him, eyes locked firmly on the damp ground, and Ink took a small step to the side as he glanced back at him.

Nim let out a sigh of masked relief upon seeing no physical harm had come to Dream, not that she could see, but whatever had happened down there had not been good and she doubted he was so downcast only because he hadn’t managed to find his brother. There was more than just sadness clouding all around him, something much stronger than before, it was grief and fear and shame weighing him down like a tangible burden.

Ink slowly moved further away so that mother and son could be in front of each other. Dream was fully expecting to be rebuked for being such a reckless mess, even though it no longer seemed likely when Nim lowered herself to the ground to be at eye level with him, looking softly into the averted gaze he didn’t dare to raise.

 _“Dream, what were you_ thinking _?”_

She had a tone of disapproval that Dream couldn’t miss because it was exactly what he was looking for, but it was completely thrown aside by concern, concern that the skeleton almost didn’t hear.

_“Do you have any idea of how worried I was?”_

He scrunched his eyes with a barely audible hiccup, suddenly at the verge of tears.

_“What would have happened had Ink not been there? Don’t ever do that again, you could have–“_

Dream had clenched his eyes shut, and in the span of a blink ran into his mother’s arms, crying his nonexistent heart out. Nim was cut off, taken aback by the sudden outburst of tears, but a few seconds later she found herself hugging the skeleton back as he clung to her like his life, almost cut short not even that long ago, depended on it.


	18. Warnings, Lies, Hints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But even seeing him trying without success to stop crying, to stop being afraid and weighed down by unadulterated distress and grief, seeing him so painfully sure of what he was saying, was not enough to stop the skepticism of the guardians. It was especially Nim who couldn't bring herself to believe it. Nothing added up. There was no other way Nightmare could have been corrupted.
> 
> They had to be missing something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so long oof  
> more stuff was going to happen in this chapter but then it would have like 10000+ words so i decided to cut it a little  
> i was inspired ok

He shot awake, and he was immediately swarmed by confusion.

Nightmare hastily stood up despite the lingering lethargy, but the confusion that made up each and every single thought in his mind only grew when he found himself somewhere else. The memory was blurred, but he knew he hadn't been there before. He was still in a cave, but it was way darker, and seemingly farther from the entrance. The difference could be easily noticed.

The most noticeable change was that the pesky little skeleton was no longer there, and there was no dust anywhere.

And that pesky little skeleton was Dream, he'd only just realized. Where was he, anyway? Was he actually dead even despite the lack of dust? He really hoped so, one less pest to deal with. And if he had somehow escaped, then good for him, it would certainly be better if he caught him when he was aware of what he was doing. He could no longer find a reason for his previous anger.

What he cared most about, though, was figuring out where he was and how he had changed location while asleep, and who exactly those figures were, and why he was in a cave in the first place and why he was back.

Those were too many questions already. He would be better off if he found his way out of there and then tried to explain everything himself.

The cave was large, a sinuous corridor the light of which only consisted of glowing blue crystals and torches in the rock walls, especially in the small, natural chambers. Everything was submerged in silence, not counting the gentle crackling of the fire of the torches, but just as Nightmare barely made to take a step forth, the sound of a quiet rattle reverberated through and made him stop.

He recognized that sound, and that was the trigger to clearer memories. Memories that told him someone had given him the apples and then let nature run its course, and Nightmare found himself understanding what had happened, why he was there and why he was not a pitiful coward anymore.

"Awake already... how interesting."

The melting skeleton turned around, to find the reptilian guardian leaning against the rock walls, staff in hand. How he had managed to get there or if he had been there all along was something Nightmare's wasn't about to question.

Heterochromatic eyes looked in his direction, and Nightmare wasn't going to lie; Quetzalcoatl did have a very sinister aura constantly surrounding him, something even someone without the power to sense others' emotions could feel. One of the few remaining questions was knowing why he would have bothered bringing him back. Did he have a death wish? Nightmare could gladly make it come true, though saying he wasn't curious about him was a blatant lie.

 ** _"Who_** **are _you?"_**  he questioned, though it was more of a threat. It was clear he knew what would happen if he gave him the apples, and nobody on their right mind would do so if they were aware of the consequences. It piqued his curiosity enough to keep him listening.

"Someone who wants to help you." the guardian answered simply, pace slow as he walked past Nightmare without a single hint of fear, tail rattling quietly. Nightmare kept his eye fixated on Quetzalcoatl as he ambled past him like he was the harmless skeleton he had been moments ago, and all he could say to himself was that he was bemused. That creature was not afraid of him, at all. Moreover, it felt as if he thought he was superior to him.

Nightmare didn't quite like that. He didn't like what was happening, and that only gave him reasons to react aggressively.

He was still intrigued, though, and chose to wait.

"No need to thank me for bringing you back, really." Quetzalcoatl continued, stopping to look at one of the torches that barely illuminated the cave. Even to Nightmare, he looked menacing covered in the oscillating yellow glow of the fire, the red strokes of war paint on his face gaining a stronger hue as the light was reflected on them. "I only did you a favor. Take it as... a sign of trust."

Nightmare couldn't help but frown. Quetzalcoatl sounded so sure of himself, yet no one would ever trust someone like him, especially not just like that. He was beginning to wonder if he was being mistaken for a fool, a lost, helpless puppy that would treat anyone who pitied him like his one and only savior. That was not what was going to happen.

 ** _"Trust?"_**  Nightmare parroted, and cunning eyes looked in his direction, acquiring a faint golden hue courtesy of the gentle flame.  ** _"You want to trust_ me _? You want_ me _to trust_ you _?"_**  Nightmare snorted, the whole ordeal sounding even more stupid said out loud.  ** _"Did you hit your head too hard? I don't want anything to do with you."_**

The curiosity was gone in that instant as Nightmare deemed the matter too childish and senseless for his own liking; it was barely something he could laugh about unless it was out of pity to humor the seemingly delusional guardian. The smirk he had shown disappeared as Nightmare scowled, leaving it clear he was not going to remain calm any longer.  ** _"What I_ do _want is to get out of whatever this place is. The only way you are going to help me is by showing me the way out, or else."_**

Quetzalcoatl nearly cut him off with a derisive laugh, and Nightmare blinked at his nonchalance. "Oh, such a grateful skeleton. Did not expect less from you."

Nightmare did not like being ignored so blatantly, and he let it show with a glower.  ** _"Did you not hear me? Either you show me the way out of this rathole or I will find it myself, right after erasing that smirk from your face."_**

It had become apparent Quetzalcoatl was not relenting, paying no heed to his anger with a quiet chuckle. "Of course you will, my dear  _conetl_."

That was when Nightmare drew the line, uncaring about having to find the way out of that maze-like place by himself, and with a snarl two tendrils sharper than any blade were flying toward the guardian. His fanged smirk disappeared for a moment, only to show what was not even anger or surprise but complete disappointment.

As if the melting appendages were moving in slow motion, Quetzalcoatl raised the staff, the sharp half-moon glistening as crystals identical to it sprouted from the ground, fast and precise and encasing the tendrils with ease.

Nightmare was briefly taken aback, needed a couple of seconds to recover before pulling back, the crystal stalagmites that had burst out of nowhere shattering at the force he had to use. The shards turned to shimmering powder that eventually disappeared as though the rock floor had swallowed it.

Quetzalcoatl did not look amused.

Irate and flustered, Nightmare threw a second attack right after, choosing to lunge as well. As if it was something he would practice every day, Quetzalcoatl dodged with frightening swiftness and was behind Nightmare before the dark skeleton could even realize, and was met with a slash from the sharp crystal decorating the guardian's scepter as soon as he turned around.

The contact caused a blue shockwave to run across Nightmare's body, and the next thing he knew was that he was in unbearable pain.

He let out a strained scream, instinctively clutching his chest and stumbling back as his body began to feel heavy and an unrelenting wave of cold, sharp pain consumed his entire being. It was everywhere at once, gnawing at every part of him until he was forced to fall to his knees with a grunt. He could hardly breathe properly.

The pain stung and burned and slashed, not even letting Nightmare think of getting up as Quetzalcoatl stood over him, eyeing him with disappointed interest.

"You should be careful,  _miquiztetl_." Quetzalcoatl used a low, slow tone, coated by the danger of a warning. "Attack a guardian, and the retaliation will be twice as harsh. You might need your fair share of common knowledge..."

Breathing heavily, Nightmare looked up at him with a hateful scowl, clutching his chest. Someone like him being intimidated was unthinkable, but there was no denying he had been defeated in a matter of  _seconds_. He was too proud to admit defeat, though. He still needed to grow stronger. He knew for a fact that he no longer had many of the abilities he once possessed, but he  _would_  get them back.

 ** _"What. The hell. Do you want."_**  he panted, voice strained, glaring daggers into the guardian. He knew for a fact that as soon as that scalding pain ceased, he would spring back into battle. He would be better off of he started with a distraction.

Quetzalcoatl gave him a crooked smile. "Your help, mostly." was his vague answer as he ambled past him, observing him. That single eye never left him, trying to bore into his own with the deepest hatred possible. "You cannot thrive in this world alone. You need my help, and I would like yours.”

* * *

The air remained cold and damp after the storm's onslaught, small dark clouds left lonely in the gentler sky. The sun rose slowly, tinting the grass in gold and painting reflections in the scattered puddles as people began showing signs of life again. The dark, heavy atmosphere the storm had left behind seemed to slowly dissipate into deserved peace, but such was not the case for the group of monsters reunited at the base of the Tree of Feelings.

Dream was supposed to be telling them what had happened, but he didn't even know where to start. He was nervous, and shaken. He still thought everything was his fault for letting Nightmare be taken away in the first place, and that alone caused his voice to shy out and his memories to hurt more. The only thing he had managed to utter thus far had been a request to bring Lanny as well, because what he had to say was too important for her to hear last.

Nim couldn't have said she was too happy about that, especially after the long discussion they'd had about leaving the trees with or without others to watch over them for even two seconds no matter the reason, but eventually decided it would be better if she was there too, a one-time exception; if whatever had happened managed to get such a strong reaction out of Dream, then it surely was important and in serious need of close attention.

Even with the Yggdrasil again under the watch of the celestial monsters of Reapertale, an idea she had been content with before, Lanny was still on edge when she got there. Even more than she had been earlier, if that was possible, and Dream hadn't even begun his explanation yet. He hated worrying people, but there was no way out of that one; the truth was harsh, and there was no way he could soften the impact.

Honesty was more painful than he would have ever thought it would be. Every truth he or those around him had to spill out had brought nothing but sadness and tension thus far.

"S-so, I..." he timidly started, gazing at nothing in particular because he could not bear looking at anyone in the eye. "I-I  _did_  try to go find Nightmare..."

It was the answer, heavy with hesitation, to the question Nim had stressed before he'd chosen to have Lanny listen to what he had to say as well. She had predicted such would be the answer, but she would have rather heard that he had only wanted to stay away from everything and everyone until he could put his mind to rest.

It might have taken him years, centuries, but Dream was only starting to realize what his mother meant when she said he was a product of faulty magic, that his mind couldn't think properly and rationally enough.

That he was a broken and unfixable failure, in other words.

He never wanted to fully believe that, thinking he could somehow change and actually become _someone_ , thinking he could rearrange his thoughts... but he had come to believe it like he had never believed anything before. He would not have made such a mess had he been something that could function even remotely properly, and as hurtful as it was to acknowledge so, it was the same case for his brother.

Dream kept his sorrowful gaze low, and he'd only just realized he hadn't raised it since consciousness had come back to him. Despite not looking, he knew Nim was giving him a deprecating look, partially hidden behind concern and attention but existent nevertheless; he knew he deserved it, and he was still surprised he hadn't received direct scorn from anyone, not even from Lanny who was much less patient than his mother and stressed enough.

"That's..." he continued, almost trailing off because he knew for a fact that he didn't want to talk about it, his eyes still watery and threatening to spill more tears. He wished he could just forget everything and move on, but that was not going to happen. "That's how I found the Tree of Life."

Dream made a pause, taking in a little breath in an attempt not to start crying again. The mere thought of having to retell the incident made him sick, but so did having to explain how reckless he had been. He already knew he did not want to see that tree ever again, but odds were he would find himself there once more for reasons he didn’t feel like thinking about.

"And you  _remember_  where it was, right?" Lanny queried before he could continue, almost desperately, her voice coated with impatience and something close enough to anger, and it was strange to see her so worried given that he had always seen her being humorous and cheerful. Every single thing he had ever known in that world was changing too fast for him to adjust, and it was changing everyone in it twice as fast with devastating results.

The skeleton was suddenly surrounded by nervousness, fidgeting. He had been running around Waterfall for far too long, unable to pay attention to where he had been going even though he knew he should have. He had no idea where the Tree was or even where it could be anymore, he only remembered it was accessible through a high ledge. "W-well, I, uh...–"

"Working on it!" Ink chimed in, and he was found scribbling things into his scarf when curious eyes gazed in his direction. He was trying to draw a more or less understandable map with the descriptions 82 was giving him, quietly as to not interrupt anything, deep in concentration. That seemed enough for Lanny, and certainly enough for Dream, though the former wasn't too sure she wanted to rely on reckless, forgetful Ink each and every time she needed to check on the Tree of Life for whatever reason.

 _"And your first thought was to approach it."_  Nim continued on behalf of Dream, not afraid to guess what could have happened and wishing she would be wrong. The caped skeleton tensed visibly in shame, narrowing his eyes with sorrow, and no answer would be clearer than that. The dryad sighed deeply and inevitably in disappointment, but talking about Dream's uncontrollable urge to take risks would be better off as a matter for later on, if it even _was_ arguable.

 _"Then what did you do,"_  she asked softly, trying to remain calm even though it kept becoming more and more difficult.

Dream hesitated before continuing, shifting ever so slightly. He remembered he still had to ask the other two guardians what the fruits of the Tree of Life worked like, and he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know, because odds were their power was being misused and everyone would get a huge scare that wasn't needed with their sparked nerves. That was probably the only thing that wasn't his fault in some way.

"I... I just- looked around, and..." he bashfully explained, remembering himself approaching the Tree, looking for his brother in vain, marveling at and fearing the plant's beauty, his attention drawn to the suspicious apples, only for it to be pried off of them to focus on his brother's distant screams. He was unwilling to keep those images in his mind, but they would be engraved in there for as long as he lived.

"H-how... how does that tree work?"

Both guardians looked slightly taken aback by the unrelated question, and Dream continued soon after to prove he was not just trying to avoid the subject but showing real concern about what he thought was a side problem that couldn't be overlooked, "I saw a lot of souls inside the apples... I-is that normal?"

There was a small moment of quiet, one that lasted a few seconds but that Dream thought had stayed for eons. He could not help but fear the worst, but he didn't think anything could be worse than what had already happened.

"Souls, you say..." Lanny muttered, looking pensive, trying to remember any vague detail Quetzalcoatl could have ever given them about the Tree of Life. "It is normal, as far as I know." she finally assured, though she didn't look as convinced as she could be. "That is what it's supposed to do. People die, and their essence travels to the apples, where they wait until they are chosen to be discarded or reborn."

Dream blinked, ponderous. "Oh..."

Would it still make sense that there were so many souls, though? That tree was connected to countless worlds, worlds he didn't even know existed, and of course that would take a lot of space... but it felt odd that not a single one of those apples was empty. Each of them had at least five souls and counting, and they were all dead and hadn't been reborn nor discarded.

"Do you think... we're there too?" Dream risked asking, fearing the answer, but there were things that had to be known. Everyone had to know if they were in potential, unavoidable danger, and all the reunited monsters looked frightened at the deep thought the guardians were submerged in after the question.

It was something they hadn't thought about, and something that made sense. Terrifying sense.

 _"Well... it is a possibility."_  Nim answered, her voice wavering as she considered what exactly that meant. Every single living being could disappear in the blink of an eye, and no one would ever know what happened; if their theories turned out to be true, then they were at a crazed, omnipotent being's mercy, and there was no way of escaping. No way that wasn't harmless, at least.

Then again, if Quetzalcoatl wanted them all dead and gone, he would have gotten rid of them long ago instead of waiting and waiting, and scheming plans nobody but him understood. There had to be other things on his mind for him to be so meticulous and secretive about it, even though that was more perturbing than him being able to wipe them all out of existence.

Lanny was seriously considering paying that tree a little visit.

Despite filled with questions, and uncertainty, and growing fear, everyone chose to stay silent, talking among themselves at max, knowing there was even more to be told. Ink couldn't even continue focusing on the scribbled lines that were supposed to be a map of the unexplored zones of Waterfall; the last thing he had to hear was that their lives were pending by a fine line over which no one had control of.

"We better leave that for later," Lanny chimed in, thinking her choices over and over again and wondering if she should tell anyone she would be heading over to Quetzalcoatl's little hideout, if she did decide to in the end. It would be a straight no from Nim, without doubt. "What happened after that?"

Dream let the many thoughts about the Tree of Life's way of working to focus back on what was equally if not more important, to him at least. "I did find him. There was a mountain, w-with a cave. N-Nightmare was-... he was there."

But he was not anymore, and he would never be.

"B-but... He–... There were-..."

Dream trailed off, not knowing how to word it. That was what he didn't understand; the Tree of Feelings was just fine, but there was no denying he had seen countless apple cores spread across the floor, and there was no other way Nightmare could have been corrupted.

For once in so long, he looked up, timid, to meet the guardians' eyes. Their gazes were split between concern and disappointment, curiosity and apprehension, upset and anxious and almost angered at everything in Lanny's case, and yet calm and patient, awaiting. Dream had an urge to look away again, but he held his gaze, difficult as it was.

"He's..." Dream tried to regain his composure before continuing, "He's... g-gone now-..."

He had to stop, his vision blurring out as tears welled in his eyes as he remembered his brother doubled over in utter agony while that damned black liquid enveloped him and poisoned his aching mind, but he managed to blink them away.

There was a moment of ponderous silence, some gazes perturbed at the discovery but patient for a more thorough explanation. "There were... many black apple cores where he was..."

Dream couldn't help looking up at the Tree, his mind unable to process the past events because they didn't make any sense whatsoever. He had of course expected the skeptical looks on the guardians, taken aback by the impossible facts, and he felt like he was babbling nonsensical things instead of telling an important and disturbing truth.

Nim looked up at the Tree as well, frowning whilst Lanny exchanged puzzled glances between it and Dream. It was fine, no one could have approached it, she had been there the whole time attentive as ever. It couldn't be possible that ‘many’ apples, as Dream worded it, could have been taken. She'd believe the previous incident with Nightmare and Kamea where two apples could have been potentially stolen, but it didn't add up.

The dryad looked back at Dream, and even though she would never accuse him of a liar, there was no way what he was saying could have happened the way he retold it.

_"Dream, are you sure you–"_

_"Yes."_

He replied straight away, almost desperately. "I know it looks impossible but I- I  _know_  what I saw. There were so many cores, h-hundreds even, and Nightmare was- that black thing, he's– it–"

 _"Dream,"_  A hand was placed on his forearm, firm enough to stop him from panicking. He ceased rambling, his breathing still anxious and shaken though controllable.  _"Are you_ sure _of what you saw?"_ Nim asked again. The question was slow and solid, demanding only the truth and nothing but the truth – the truth that, in that case, did not make any sense.

The skeleton regained his composure after a moment. Dream was well aware that it should not be possible, but what had happened in Waterfall  _had_ , indeed, happened. How and why, he had no idea, but that wasn’t what mattered. "Y-yes... It... it  _had_  to..." He breathed in and out again, aching at the memory of his brother  _disappearing_  right in front of his eyes. "H-he was in so much pain... There was black liquid everywhere, and it was... t-taking him away..."

Every gaze slowly turned into a mixture of shock and pity as they started to realize what was going on, unthinkable as it seemed.

One tear he couldn't hold back rolled down Dream's cheekbone. "I couldn't do anything..."

Both guardians looked at each other with nothing short of perplexity, knowing Dream's grief was as real as could be, but they were unable to fully believe what he was saying. Nim was trying hard to understand, to find an explanation, but such amount of apples to have been stolen was  _impossible_ , with every individual letter; there was no interpretation she could think of that would make the situation logical, and Lanny didn't have any options either.

The Tree was right there, and unharmed. Even if she could no longer detect any unwanted presence too close to it, Nim would have known if anyone had tried to take that many. It would certainly take more than half of them to corrupt Nightmare. It just could not be possible. Not the way it was being told.

"Are you sure you weren't... hallucinating?" Lanny conjectured. Dream shook his head.

"No, no it  _had_  to be real..." he argued back with fervor, even if he would give his life for it to have been nothing but a hallucination. "H-he... he didn't remember anything... he didn't remember m-me... He was t-trying to kill me... And- I don't know what happened after that, but I woke up somewhere else, and he was gone… But it- it was not a hallucination... it was  _not_..."

"You woke up somewhere else? And he didn't kill you?" the elf pressed on, gaining new guesses about what could have happened in a way that could explain the missing pieces. "You know… it _could_  have been Quetzalcoatl's doing. You got too close to the Tree, and he decided to mess around with you. If there is one thing I know, it's that the venom in those feathers has many side-effects. One of the most prominent is causing some nasty, and realistic, hallucinations."

She had also learnt that herself. Quetzalcoatl had a tendency to 'miss' while practicing his aim with them around very often... Lanny no longer believed that, not even for a second. She was starting to think he had 'missed' too many times, and it could have been a way to test if his lighter powers had any effects on other guardians. That was something to keep in mind, too.

For a moment, Dream didn't know what to say; he was about to, but cut himself right off. He was  _sure_  it had been real, he was  _sure_  he had seen his brother once again falling victim to what could only be described as a curse, but trying to believe all of that while in front of the untouched fruits began to increase in difficulty. The pain, the fear, the desperation, it had all felt so real… but maybe…

"Did you see the cracks on his skull, though?" Ink interjected, and he couldn't believe he had forgotten that of all things. Then again, Dream had been so submerged in the ongoing situation that he had forgotten, too, and so had the other three skeletons involved in the mess. "That can't be because of a little feather."

Dream instinctively brought a hand up to to the back of his skull, still feeling a slight sting at the gentle contact but nothing to worry about. It kept confusing him. Why else would he have those injuries then? Why else would he have completely lost consciousness, waking up without air? He had nearly been strangled to death and slammed against walls with enough force to break his bones – there was no way it had been the result of a hallucination. There had to be an explanation somewhere…

Nim was immediately driven to figure out what kind of injuries they were talking about, removing Dream's hand to get a clear look, startling him somewhat in doing so for he had delved deep in his confused thoughts.

It wasn't a wound to worry about, but it was one to think about.

 _"Who did that, and how?"_  she sternly asked, and Dream shrunk at the not so distant memories that made his mind hurt and his heart ache.

"I told you... N-Nightmare did..." he mumbled, moving his gaze away. It wasn't entirely right; Nightmare,  _his_  Nightmare, did not do anything. That  _monster_  did. "He didn't remember anything, he just wanted to kill me… I don't know why he didn't and where he went and how I ended up somewhere else, but it  _happened_ …"

The thought hurt so much, but he kept seeing it over and over again, that grin, that piercing eye, that laughter, the utter fear and the lack of air, the pain, the echoing screams of his brother – the last thing he heard from him before he was ripped away from his life. He would never forget that. He knew he would never forget that and he almost preferred to not have a mind at all to get rid of that scarring memory that dissolved him like acid.

But even seeing him trying without success to stop crying, to stop being afraid and weighed down by unadulterated distress and grief, seeing him so painfully sure of what he was saying, was not enough to stop the skepticism of the guardians. It was especially Nim who couldn't bring herself to believe it. Nothing added up. There was no other way Nightmare could have been corrupted.

They had to be missing something.

"And you didn't see Quetzalcoatl anywhere?" Lanny queried, and Dream only managed to shake his head as he made an attempted to calm himself down. "Not even that clown of his?" Another shake of his head.

The elf crossed her arms in deep thought, nothing she could come up with making enough sense.

"I know it looks impossible..." Dream murmured, almost to himself, all eyes on him. "But... y-you have to believe me... I don't know what  _they_  did, but... Nightmare, and the apples, and everything... It was all real... and we're all in  _serious_  danger…"

The guardians gave each other a look as the others gazed at the tearful skeleton with pity in their expressions. They didn't have enough knowledge about the trees to know just how impossible his words seemed, but it was worrying to see the guardians so, almost begrudgingly, doubtful about it even despite the genuine sound of certainty and desperation flowing from his voice like tears flowed from his eyes.

"Oh, it was real alright."

What was a confused and grieving atmosphere became tense in the blink of an eye when everyone turned in the direction of the intruding voice. Blueberry's first instinct was to scramble behind his brother in sudden fright as those who were sitting got up immediately, and even Dream forgot what he was so worried about to scurry out of the man's sight even though he had been seen and heard.

Kamea had slipped by, unnoticed by the many monsters and humans already pacing about, wandering a little too close to the Tree for comfort but making no effort to get any closer than that; the golden dagger glinted dangerously in his hand.

"And speaking of clowns," Lanny hissed under her breath, assuming a defensive stance along with all who could defend themselves and those around them. Some of the bystanders seemed to have noticed the sudden standoff, some deciding to run away, others choosing to watch closely in case they could do something, others warning those they could, and others still confused at what exactly was going on.

Despite threatened, nobody was willing to try anything without the guardians' saying. They didn't think Kamea would be bold enough to attack two beings as powerful as they were  _and_  all the monsters that could hold their own well enough alone, but they still didn't let their guard down. As nervous as they were, even 2, 40 and 82 were ready to take out their swords if fighting was necessary.

"What are  _you_  doing here?" the guardian of magic demanded, never taking her fiery eyes from the pacing, smirking human. She had already snapped last time; the most minor show of arrogance and disrespect and she knew nobody would stop her from taking care of some vermin.

"What, am I not allowed to go out for a walk now?" Kamea jeered nonchalantly, already starting off on the wrong foot. "It's not like I want to cause any harm. What's with all the tension?"

Nim have him a condescending glare, almost incredulous. _"Of course. Bringing a weapon with you only equals to a peace treaty."_ she deadpanned sarcastically, focused not on the human himself but on the brandished weapon he wasn't hiding, much like everyone else.

Kamea stopped for a moment, eyeing the group in silence with an unrelenting smirk. "It's called self-defense, honey." he said with a false sweet tone that was meant to be more irritating than anything else. "You people have some anger issues. One can't even help without being threatened for merely existing, so... you always have to be ready."

"Help?" Ink almost growled, more than a little tired of that guy. "What kind of help could _you_ ever bring?"

Lanny gave him a short side-glance as a warning not to be too daring, but it was a question they all had deep down. Kamea was there for a reason, that was unarguable; and the little snicker he let out made said reason a rather worrying mystery.

"Is that the thanks I get for bothering to clear up your doubts?" the human asked rhetorically, making a vague attempt to sound offended. “You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me. Ill-tempered, and ungrateful… what a charming combination."

"What in Hel do you want, you damned freak?" Lanny almost cut him off, taking a step forth. There was only so much she was willing to hear from him.

Kamea paused a second, never ceasing to look haughty, before chuckling again. "I told you so. I just want to clear your doubts." He twirled the dagger in his hand with clear practice, just as if it were nothing but a child's harmless toy. "I'm not even supposed to be here, but I found it cruel to keep you trying to figure out what is going on and accusing the little guy of a liar." He shot a glance at Dream, partially hidden behind the two guardians, "Really, how can you not believe that saddening face?"

 _"Why would_ you _want to do that?"_ Nim asked – more like demanded, – as unable to figure out why Kamea would bother telling them anything as she was to find any logic behind Dream's statements.

Kamea only shrugged without much interest, "Why not? I pity you, really. You don't know what's going on, I do, and Quetzy is not going to tell you. I’d say you are pretty lost. So, if you don't listen to me now, you will never know what is happening until it's too late. And trust me, you don't want to wait until it's too late. Give or take."

There was pondering silence for a moment. Ink in particular looked at the guardians to know if they had to be wary, or fight back, or listen, and it seemed like they _were_ considering listening to whatever the human had to say.

Then again, it could be a trap, and they both knew it well. Kamea could be nothing but a distraction. There was no way they were letting their guard down, but if they had a chance to understand what was happening... then they would take it, no matter from whom.

"...fine, then." Lanny grumbled, choosing to be the one to keep closer attention on their surroundings just in case they were being baited by a distraction. "Go on. Explain."

She sounded skeptical still. Kamea looked mildly surprised by the permission to speak, another reason to continue expecting the unexpected. "Really? You _are_ going to listen? Just like that? Huh, guess I misjudged your temper... I was willing to see how long it would take any of you to try and blow me to smithereens."

"Don't tempt me." Lanny murmured, and raised her tone to continue, "Now stop with the chitchat and start _talking_."

The human gave her an undecipherable look that was still as derisive as any other he'd shown. "Then again... I can just not tell you and be on my way, for being so ungrateful," he uttered an impertinent rejoinder, using a singsong tone that did nothing but spark the burning flame of hatred lively in the others.

"Then again, we can just kill you and be on our way, for being so insufferable," Lanny sassed back, making use of the same tone in a way so natural that was even disturbing. There seemed to be no one opposed to the idea, aside from Dream and Blueberry as usual. Even so, Kamea did not look threatened on the slightest; in fact, he showed complete disinterest in the warning.

"Good idea." he chimed. "That way you really will never know the type of danger you're in until it hits you, unless you choose to believe the little guy. And he doesn't know all the details, so that’s an unreliable source."

Irate confusion was a shared sentiment. He wasn't wrong; Dream only had a vague idea of what they were up against, and all things considered, Quetzalcoatl would not be willing to tell them anything too important, or anything at all. If Kamea knew something, then he was the only one they could rely on – it wasn't a nice thought, but there was nothing to be done without him. It was a cold stalemate, and he was undoubtedly taking advantage of that superiority.

If he ended up not telling them what they wanted to know or chose to lie, two very powerful beings in particular would not be very happy.

Again, everyone relied on the guardians' choices, which were doubtful at the moment. It could still be a trap, or they could be lied to, or Kamea could just choose to walk off and no harm would come to him if he was the only one who would reveal any important details. But it was something worrisome, something that, want it or not, required risks and sacrifices, and both Nim and Lanny knew they had to obtain that information somehow without losing their patience. If only the lock to all those secrets wasn't so irritating, and careless, and arrogant...

"But nah," Kamea continued before any indication of an agreement could be uttered, nonchalant. "It's better if you know. Makes it more fun."

 _"Stop stalling, then."_ Nim stressed, wishing, just like Lanny, that she could give him a piece of mind for bothering and aggravating everything, but there was no denying it: he was important. For the time being. There was always time to reconsider, and besides, if Kamea avoided being honest in the end, they were still planning on talking Quetzalcoatl out of whatever sick scheme he had planned before jumping into action without thought.

"Alright, alright," the human gave in, still sensing no real threats sent his way. "No need to get all angry about it, unicorn lady."

There was an incensed glower sent specially for him that came after a perplexed blink; it took perhaps too much self-control for Nim to let that slide past, but she knew better than to give Kamea the kind of reaction he wanted to obtain. In terms of looks, Lanny seemed much more offended than she did.

Undyne did appear to have found it funny, though she kept it to herself. Not even she dared to do as little as smirk for everyone to see; she could bother her two errorified friends with it later, when two angry guardians weren't in the middle.

"Well, who am I kidding, you will get angry anyway." Kamea mused, mostly to himself though it was clearly audible. "So,"

He resumed his absentminded pace, all eyes on him and especially on the dagger he kept playing around with. Those who had stopped to look knew to get back, some choosing to move away from there out of mistrust and fear, even though Kamea had no visible intentions to go after them.

"This actually happened a while ago. A long while ago. Back when most of us were still alive."

Kamea spoke slowly, almost in a calculating manner, reminiscing a story he knew like anyone would know the alphabet. Deep down, he was looking forward to the reactions it would bring, if he wasn't stopped halfway there; it seemed like it would be fun.

"I know you haven't realized yet, so allow me to let you in on a little secret, Lanny..."

Said guardian straightened lightly, not knowing what to expect but not imagining anything that would make her happy.

"We've actually met before. Well, _I_ met _you_. I even managed to get one of the apples from your tree. You know, the highest ones, the ones meant to be the most powerful of all. And you never had _any_ idea. It's quite hilarious, really."

Puzzled eyes blinked once, the elf's expression morphing from annoyed and irate to shocked, but just like whatever had happened to Dream, it didn't make any sense when she tried to connect the dots.

It no longer worked in that afterlife, but when she was alive, she could sense anyone wandering too close to the Yggdrasil. She would have known if someone got close enough to steal any fruit, let alone the ones at the top of the Tree. She _would_ have known. And not only that, but she also had a village of her own; someone would have told her had they seen any suspicious activity.

Nim looked at her for a second, but it was clear she didn't believe that either, though she was still worried anyway. Kamea had managed to stay out of everyone's sight for as long as she had been there. He knew how to be stealthy... but it took more than discretion to approach any of the three Trees still.

Lanny's skepticism lingered, and gained force as her eyes, wide, began to narrow without belief. Before she could say anything, though, Kamea continued, "Yeah, shocking, isn't it? It's not my fault you have the attention span of a teacup..."

That seemed to be the last straw for the elf, though Nim knew when to stop her before she would let her anger break loose. Lanny heeded the warning of the hand holding her forearm before she could even think of taking a step forth, her expression a clear giveaway to her intentions. If _only_ Kamea wasn’t supposed to be telling them something important…

He was obviously looking for trouble. Why was a question with a difficult answer, but it was becoming hard to believe him with his constant snark.

"And now you might ask why. And even if you don't ask, I _will_ tell you why." The human stopped, faced them. Lanny was still trying to focus on their surroundings in case something else was lurking, though the utter lack of respect collided with her concentration. "You see, our feathered buddy is sort of a potion freak. And he wants to keep the trees well and alive. And he wants our favorite skeleton siblings to be weaponized." Kamea paused for a second to play around with the reflection of the knife again the rising sun, his attention on anything but the alert group of monsters. "Catch my drift?"

It could be said that the two guardians had an idea, a very vague idea of what he was hinting at, but it was nothing but a thought that had no dots to be connected and remained only as a foreboding. Nobody else had any idea what he was talking about, though Dream was attentive as ever.

Kamea looked back at them when no answer of any kind was given. "No? Fine then, I'll drop the news. Quetzy extracted the magic from that apple and messed around with it to create some kind potion that would multiply whatever it was poured on. I did, indeed, wander over here and... _borrow_ a couple black apples. Might as well have given the purple one a heart attack but, things happen."

The causality he spoke with was infuriating, but the only thing that could be done was listen; realization was slowly starting to sink in, and he realized soon enough. That was when the smirk came back.

"It's becoming clear, isn't it? We gave one of those two apples to the little guy to keep him busy, then used that potion on the other one to multiply it. I have no idea how many we got, but it was enough, apparently. He is, again, a creature of darkness. You’re welcome,"

Everyone looked at each other, but Dream was the first to freeze. He didn't even know at what, exactly. It could have been at knowing for sure that he really hadn't imagined anything, or at the extent Quetzalcoatl was willing to go to achieve his goals, or at the irrefutable fact that he had indeed lost his brother again.

Then, it was the guardians' turn. There was disbelief, shock, anger, fear, everything along the lines of worry, perplexity and ire, flowing like rivers of lava through them and leaving them utterly disbelieved, numb even.

"You can't do that," Lanny whispered, all the aforementioned emotions lacing her voice as clearly as they were seen in her eyes. She was even in denial, but confusing as it was, it made sense. It was the _only_ thing that could explain Dream's words...

"I didn't do anything," Kamea answered with nonchalance, uncaring of the toll his statements took on those who were present. He seemed rather amused at it. "It was the reptilian freak's idea. I just helped. A little. No need to lecture me now."

None of the two guardians knew what to say, if anything at all. It was something _unthinkable_ \- replicate the sacred fruits? They would not have believed it had they been told it was possible. It _was_ supposed to be impossible, and it certainly was inexcusable. Quetzalcoatl might as well have already broken every rule all three of them had vowed to follow, shattered them like a bunch of frail porcelain vases, and to think he would be laughing at the results...

How _dare._

No, and worst of all: as if Quetzalcoatl himself and his rogue minion were not enough to be worried about, the same Nightmare that had corrupted and destroyed the entire multiverse was out there, under their influence, or even worse, out of it, waiting to bring chaos and despair again. One was dangerous, two were even more so, but all three of them, working together...

...they all could be done for.

_"Where is he."_

The tense, suffocating silence was cut by Nim's commanding voice, and anyone that wasn't as bold and careless as Kamea was would have probably considered it a better idea to answer her than to aggravate her.

"Which he? We are quite the bunch now, as you can see..."

Where was Nightmare, where was Quetzalcoatl, where was their hideout, where was _everything_ , what on Earth where they planning, there were far too many questions buzzing in the dryad's mind, questions that were not likely to receive an immediate answer, but she stuck with the first out of instinct.

_"Where is Nightmare."_

She knew for a fact that she was going to kill that madman if he refused to answer, and Lanny would gladly share the idea. Quetzalcoatl was the real threat, but Kamea was happily following in his footsteps, causing trouble wherever it could be caused, and none of the two guardians were willing to keep accepting that. They knew enough to deem him useless again.

"Oh, I can't tell you that." Kamea deadpanned, but Ink interjected right away.

"No need to, we know where you three are hiding." he threatened. "We already know where his tree is."

He sounded so sure of himself, but Kamea only gave him a moment of silence accompanied by a disinterested look. "Uh-huh. So?" he said, vacant. Ink's confidence flew off like a frightened bird. "We have it more planned out than that. But I’m not going to tell you that, either. It would ruin the many surprises we have in store for you…”

 _"Where. Is he."_ Nim stressed, her patience at the very limit, and everyone else except for the two smaller skeletons readied themselves despite their frightened looks of disapproval.

And yet, Kamea still did not feel threatened. "I _could_ tell you..." He grinned, "But I won't. That's enough for a day, don't you think?"

"I'll tell you what is enough for a day, you sickening _ape_ –"

Lanny was storming toward him, and not even Nim bothered to stop her that time, even though Kamea already had one of Quetzalcoatl's teleportation vials at the ready; an outburst just like that one was what he had been expecting since he made his presence known. He would have to congratulate the group for being so patient later on, if the guardian of life didn’t find out he had disobeyed him and gone around telling things that were not supposed to be told.

"And there go the anger issues. That was fun, toodles~"

It was the last thing he said before purple smoke surrounded him as the small capsule shattered in contact with the ground, just as Lanny attempted to fire a blast of magic as soon as she realized the coward would get away.

It missed, of course, only a mixture of powder and smoke emanating from the scorched ground left behind. The elf couldn't help a frustrated growl, "Damn it!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more ancient words, yay  
> *miquiztetl: skeleton (also supposed to be the name of Death's personification, but that's not the meaning here)


	19. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They could solve that later on. What they really had to do was figure out what to do next, though they were not expecting the future to be bright.

"That did  _not_  happen."

There was no amount of fluster, disbelief and vexation that could ever equal to Lanny's as she paced left to right, back and forth, in circles, letting out all the rampant thoughts in her mind. It wasn't only the empty feeling of not having been able to rid the world of a cowardly rat like Kamea was what made her angry, it was  _everything_  at once, falling on top of everyone with the intention to stay like the rain of the previous storm.

Her reaction was reminiscent of the last time Quetzalcoatl and Kamea had made their presence known, except the elf was considerably angrier.

Nim did not even bother appeasing her that time, and let her show her frustration to the world without restraints. She kept her own anger to herself, though that did not mean she was hiding it. Not on the slightest. In fact, the main reason no one had tried to ask her anything was because they all could tell she was mad with only a mere glance in her direction, and they knew it was better to wait and continue talking among themselves instead of prying even if they ached to know what was happening.

"I swear on my  _life_ ," Lanny kept vociferating, her own frustration unbearable. The rest sporadically stopped their quiet conversations to have a curious look at her, for they had never seen her so infuriated; only when she was joking. "No one ever approached the Yggdrasil,  _no one_. It's- there is literally no way! He  _has_  to be lying. It  _couldn't_  have been like that."

It looked like Nim was trying to ignore the other guardian to focus on her thoughts, but despite her silence and brooding stance, she was paying close attention to her angered statements even if some didn't make full sense. If that had indeed happened when they were alive, and Lanny claimed no one had gotten that close to the tree with so much fervor, then it couldn't have happened. Not the way it had been told, at least.

Then again, that was the only thing that made sense, and the only thing that proved Dream's words, but it was frustratingly hard to believe.

Everything was so confusing.

Dream kept to himself, meanwhile. The others were trying to calm each other down and trying to figure out what they were up against based on their ideas and little knowledge, and Ink was making sure he hadn't messed up anywhere on the map given that 40 and 2 had started arguing about some directions and possible shortcuts, but the artist decided to trust 82 more. Even Error was tagging along with the others, passively so, but Dream was dead silent.

It was Blueberry who noticed first. He had noticed a while ago, but it was starting to preoccupy him to the point where he couldn't remain quiet about it. He hadn't moved, he hadn't spoken… he had done nothing since Kamea appeared, and it looked like it was his intention to stay that way. It was unusual. Understandable, but unusual. Normally he would be the first to join them and give his own ideas, to try and see the other side of the story, the half-full glass and not the half-empty one, but he wasn't even looking at them.

Not bothering standing up, Blueberry scooted closer to the silent skeleton under his brother's watch; Papyrus was quick to understand what he wanted to do, and decided to leave it up to him despite him being worried too. Dream knew Blueberry was right next to him, but paid no heed.

"...DREAM?"

No response, only a slow blink, and no signs of being about to reply. Blueberry waited for a few seconds before trying again, figuring out what to say and how to do so, which he found out wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. The sound of Lanny's voice showing nothing but hatred toward certain troublemakers in the background prevented silence from making its way in.

"...IS SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND?" he asked softly. "YOU'VE BEEN AWFULLY QUIET."

Dream took a barely noticeable breath in and shifted a little, saying nothing until a moment later as he exhaled. Blueberry could see he wasn't very comfortable about talking, and almost felt bad for making him do so. "Nothing. It's... Everything's fantastic."

His bitter sarcasm was nothing short of evident, and strange coming from him of all people. Blueberry recognized that look in his half-lidded eyes, that look of longing and fear. It reminded him of himself, all those years ago when he was trapped in the anti-void wondering where his brother was and if he would ever see him again, and wondering what would happen to the world around him while it was in the hands of someone with bad intentions.

It was the kind of sight he had never thought he would see again, but there it was, smeared all over the skeleton that not long ago had been laughing with him and everyone else when they had nothing to fear. It reminded him of how Dream got there in the first place, of all the things he’d had to go through in order to finally die…

It didn't look like Dream was in the mood for false reassuring words, and it took Blueberry some self-control not to utter any out of common sense. It was an instinct to him; that was why he didn't know what to say at first, if anything at all, though it was Dream who spoke again before he could, almost to his surprise.

"It's just... Everything is going so wrong so fast... I– I can't... It's too much to take on..."

Blueberry didn't know what else to do but give him a pitying look, and he couldn't help imagining himself if he lost his brother there, all of a sudden, with no way to go back. Or viceversa. Those were things that were not supposed to happen there, things nobody expected. It was no wonder they hit with devastating force.

“…YOU CAN TALK TO ME ABOUT IT? IF YOU WANT?”

Again, no answer, and no signs of it. Dream rested his head over his arms, crossed over his knees which he held close to his body as if he were freezing. By the time he finally came up with a response, sorrowful as its tone was, it was muffled. “I really don’t want to talk…”

Blueberry was sure he could almost see Dream flinch each and every time the memory of his brother came back to him like an unforgiving arrow piercing through his heart. Dream tried to ignore it, to pretend it wasn’t there, lingering in his mind until it would break, but he soon found out that it was impossible to get rid of the imagery of those mere two weeks he had spent with Nightmare before all hell broke loose, after years and years of waiting to see him again, of waiting to see that smile that had always made him happy, one which, he’d realized, he had barely seen there.

"That's it."

The elf stopped pacing after a while with a camouflaged stomp, her hands subconsciously clenched into fists so tight her knuckles were whitening. The two skeletons stopped their quiet conversation upon hearing her, and so did most others. Dream still kept his head low as he turned his gaze to the guardian.

"That is  _it_. I am going to have a little talk with that– that slithering  _worm_."

Lanny had been saying a lot of things, some worrying, since Kamea left, from senseless insults to complaints, to everything her mind was telling her no matter how absurd or harsh it could be, but that was the only thing that really got hold of Nim's attention enough to pry her out of her irate trance.

She immediately turned to look at the other guardian, who had a decisive stare planted on the direction to the Underground but was making no signs to go anywhere just yet. Nim recognized that look of resolve in her eyes, and it worried her; she had seen it enough times to know that her intentions were serious and that she was in no way joking.

 _"You are going to have a talk with no one."_ the dryad stated, firmly, though she was startled when eyes full of anger and resolution met hers; she’d thought Lanny would have known better than to start talking back.

"Of  _course_  I am, the moment I find his little hideout–"

 _"You are_ not _going to find any hideout.”_ A mere commanding tone was not enough anymore; at that point, Nim was vexed enough to address Lanny like she had been addressing everything before, and like she was suddenly addressing her too. She couldn’t care less how angry and annoyed Lanny was – she was too, and she would _not_ take that attitude and vacuity. _“I will not let you walk straight into a deathtrap."_

Lanny knew soon enough what kind of mindset Nim was following, especially with the firm stance, and she did  _not_  agree with it. Not that time.

"What are we  _going_  to do then?" the elf defied, the anger she had accumulated flaring out like the eruption of a volcano. "Should we stand here, idly watching over the Trees, waiting until those two– those  _three_  come back and actually kill somebody? Should we wait until people start disappearing and dying to do something, or until they add Dream to their army? Should we wait until they start targeting us and put the whole world in danger because we didn't take precautions?!"

Everyone around them had gone completely quiet the moment Lanny had started talking out loud, directly. Even the negative-colored Undyne, who had been talking about her own things to her mostly silent skeleton friends and grinning despite the overall unease, shut her mouth with no second thoughts, and felt intimidated by the guardian.

To say the least, Nim was taken aback by Lanny's outburst, but her response was to narrow her eyes, nearing disbelief. Silently behind her, Dream was looking up at the both of them fully, not liking the anger that was building up in the atmosphere to contrast with the stress. He had never seen the two of them argue before, or even have something to be mad at each other for, and to finally see such occurrence unfold was too nerve-racking for him.

They were frightening when they were angry.

 _"Why would walking straight into their lair be a better solution?"_  Nim argued back, and Lanny seemed offended that she was being retorted, as if she thought her ideas were too valid to be confronted.  _"We cannot sacrifice ourselves like this, all you will manage is to get yourself killed!"_

"You don't  _know_  that!" Lanny barked. "This isn't some random, frustrated antagonist that decided to cause some trouble, we are talking about one of  _us_ , we are talking about the same Nightmare that sent all these people here in the first place! We will  _never_  get out of this one if we don't take risks! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and you can take for granted that I  _will_ head over there."

 _"Lanny,_ think _about what you are doing."_  the dryad hissed, hands clenching into fists as anxiety began to set in. Nobody dared say a word, not even Dream; he in particular huddled in on himself in an attempt to appear invisible.  _"You are one. They are_ three _. And all of them are capable of killing us. You cannot go against them on your own without thinking. You may be able to defend yourself, a fight may not even be necessary, but you do not know what will happen either, they could set a trap and then what? What would happen then? We could lose you. What would we do? What would you have solved_ _?_ _"_

There was no immediate answer; Lanny tried to retort in order to be the last to speak, but no words would came out despite her best efforts and she showed her frustration by turning her back on everyone, jaw clenched; her wings glowed brighter, flickered is distress.

She wouldn't take that idea. How could she? Things were worsening at a fast pace, and if they kept themselves still, they would never solve anything. The safety of the Trees had a solution while they were gone for a few _minutes_ at max, and the least they could do was pry some information out of any of those three, information that wasn't vague, puzzling or full of riddles they would never understand for once, and they would not be getting those answers if they stayed still and waited for disaster to strike them with open arms.

Lanny was perfectly aware that they posed a grave threat to her, but she was still not willing to let them do as they pleased. Not doing anything would leave them thinking no one would even try to stop them, it would give them more reasons to continue causing trouble without second thoughts, and that was what they were supposed to prevent. She knew what kind of enemies they were faced with, and that did not deter her; if she was to die, she would die for  _something_.

She didn't want to see everyone suffer again and be unable to help. She couldn't fathom the thought. They didn’t deserve that, and she knew for a fact that she was not taking on the role of a helpless bystander again.

...but perhaps she was being too harsh about it. It took a moment for her haze of anger to dissipate enough to let Nim's words as well as common sense sink in and do their desired effect, and when they did, Lanny found herself relaxing with regret. When thought about with enough meditation, it seemed like a berserk idea to head over to the Tree of Life right then and there without actually knowing what she would be up against.

She  _was_  going to go there, and that was a fact; the only thing that changed was her rush to do so.

She didn't know how else she would know what waited there if she didn't go altogether. It seemed like an unbeatable stalemate.

Seeing the guardian of magic ease back into relative calmness was Nim's cue to approach her with renewed composure, saying nothing until they were next to each other. Lanny was still very nervous and tense, and frightened, and frustrated; they were things that could be easily read only by her expression and body language.

It was strange and difficult to deal with those outbursts. They had never been through that in their millions of years of life.

_"Lanny, listen... I know what you want to do. And I understand that. But you cannot throw everything down the drain just because you are frustrated. We should not stay here forever, yes, but this does not depend on whether or not we take action, it depends on how we do so, and when. You said so yourself, we are dealing with one of us now. This is something the world has never seen before. We cannot treat it like a threat that needs to be eliminated immediately, but rather like a threat that needs to be observed, understood and treated carefully, and if possible... placated, and not disposed of."_

Lanny shifted in place, trying in vain to form words, to let out her thoughts as easily as she had just seconds ago. She was not okay with anything; no excuse of a solution, even her own, sounded right anymore. It all seemed senseless, lost, but at the same time, she was unwilling to give up. It was a mess, and she didn't know how much more of it she could handle. It felt like it was disturbing her mind.

She had a brief urge to pretend nothing was happening just to get rid of that gnawing inquietude that haunted her for a mere five minutes.

She sighed, crossing her arms weakly, her thoughts wavering. "Are you really suggesting we try a pacifist approach just like that? After everything that's already happened?"

Nim regarded her for a moment, considering her own choices. They were at a loss of ideas; it wasn't easy to deal with something that had never happened before, something no one could ever be ready for. Every option sounded as good as it sounded terrible, and one couldn't hold a sole opinion on them. It was a true challenge, and thinking rationally seemed impossible, but there were things Nim was more certain about than others, and that was one of them.

_"Would you rather start a war against someone that could kill us all without trying?"_

It was that question alone that brought Lanny to finally keep herself still in clearer thought, still unsure of what to do and how to properly react without losing her composure again. She remained silent for a few seconds before sighing again, quieter. "I think he has already started it."

Nim pursed her lips.  _"That may be so. But this is not the way to handle it. They are trying to antagonize us, they are waiting for a reprisal. We cannot give them what they want to easily. I know you are frustrated, I know you want this over with, but you are risking too much. You cannot fight fire with fire."_

Lanny gave the Underground a cold look after a second, trying to let the common sense behind those calm words ease her rambling mind. She didn't say anything, though at least she had calmed down enough to be certain she wouldn’t snap again. On the outside, at least. She was still seething, she was still afraid, and she would be until everything turned back to normal. The problem was that such thing as ‘normal’ sounded like a foreign word, something terrifyingly impossible, a distant concept that was getting further away.

The other guardian reconsidered her own thoughts during the pondering silence. They _would_ have to take real risks at some point and that was not something Nim would deny, but out of all of them, she was only willing to take one at the moment.

She couldn't believe she was going to say what she was going to, but…

_"…listen, forget about not going anywhere."_

Lanny looked up at her with wide eyes; she found the contradiction straight away.

 _"_ But you said-"

_"I know what I said. But it… it might be better this way. I trust you know what you are doing, so I will leave that up to you. You can wander, you can make sure people are out of danger, you can... you can leave the protection of the Yggdrasil to those you consider trustworthy, but, for all our sakes… just be careful. You know better than to be reckless over nothing."_

Despite wandering around and leaving her tree out of her watch being her idea, an idea she was content with and had planned to follow until Nim changed her mind, Lanny still felt like she had been handed an unbearable, frail burden. It almost hurt her how much Nim trusted her, only then becoming aware of how stubborn and impetuous she was being.

She would never mean to start screaming like that, and Nim wouldn't either; it was tension's doing.

Lanny's first thought was to deny that idea, to keep things like they already were after much deliberation, after the long talk they’d had about it, but she suppressed the urge to decline.

"I…– Fine. We'll- we'll do that, yes."

She sounded anything but sure, though it was mostly due to the pricking stress. Nim knew she wouldn't go around looking for trouble, she just couldn't help but be overly worried for what could happen out there and how Lanny would react to it considering what they were faced against.

After musing, not knowing if she would be able to control herself against a threat when the time came, Lanny eventually looked back up at the other guardian. "And you? What are you going to do?"

That was, in fact, a good question. Nim was not content with the idea of wandering about from time to time, but it was possible that such action would be necessary at some point, and it might be more useful than waiting for the unexpected. She was not going to do that straight away, of course… but she would keep it in mind, hard as it was for her to consider it a good idea.

 _"…I will think about it. What is important now is that_ you _know what you are doing."_

Lanny's only response was to give the smallest of nods, head down. The previous argument, though short, left a bitter aftertaste that she couldn't get rid of, and it hurt. Neither Quetzalcoatl, nor Kamea, nor even Nightmare had to be there for the air itself to feel suffocating, full of bad presages, closing in with tension, taking everyone's motives to stay calm away bit by bit. Without realizing, both guardians had started wondering at the same time if that pressure was caused by Nightmare's existence. The Tree of Feelings was intact, but if one black apple had been turned into almost a hundred of them, the consequences of it could still strike.

 _If_ that had indeed happened, but it was better to start believing any bit of information they had so as to not get one awful surprise when they saw what those two were planning with their own eyes, if they ever got the chance.

But they could solve that later on. What they really had to do was figure out what to do next, though they were not expecting the future to be bright.

* * *

Nightmare scoffed.  ** _"I don't need anyone's help. Why_ would _I?"_**

He kept his demeanor cold and aloof. He didn't like the feeling of impotence, and he was not about to stand there and be talked down to by some feathered freak he didn't even know all that well. Sure, he hadn't managed to land a single hit despite attacking first and had been left like a weakling despite having once ruled over the entire multiverse, but that didn't mean he was lesser. At all.

Quetzalcoatl snickered at the melting creature's lack of concern before sighing, "You don't understand... do you?" He crouched in front of the pained skeleton, and Nightmare was more than tempted to retaliate, but he was still too hurt and exhausted to move. He had no idea what he'd done to him, but he learnt soon enough to stay away from that scepter. "You will never be able to do as you please anymore. Not without my help, not on your own. Especially because I would not let you, but many other factors contribute to that."

Nightmare gritted his teeth.  ** _"What, you want me to be your little minion, like that stupid human of yours?"_**

He hated how tired and hurt he sounded despite trying to remain intimidating, but it didn't depend on his will. The pain seemed psychological almost, entirely in his mind but feeling as real as it could be, draining his energy. It was starting to subside, but its pace was much too slow. It hung in there, unwilling to let go, constant like ripples in calm water.

"Not quite," Quetzalcoatl answered, with a small tilt of his head. His eyes narrowed somewhat, almost in thought. "You certainly have more potential than him, especially now that he seems to have become more… disobedient." He knew exactly where Kamea had gone. It called for a reminder. "It just needs to be used correctly... and for your own good, you should reconsider your choices. You are not on top of anything now."

The melting skeleton narrowed his eye with fury, tried to get up but failed miserably, his legs still too unresponsive to let him. He would be on top of everything if he wished to, all he needed was time.  ** _"You don't scare me."_**  he stated, more or less able to breathe properly again but still weighed down by coreless pain. It seemed like a bold statement to make when he was too weak to even stand up, but he would not give up that easily. He would not show weakness, even if it was impossible to hide.

A fanged smile was his response, and even Nightmare would admit it was sinister. "I should."

**_"Get lost."_ **

Quetzalcoatl breathed out a brief laugh, standing back up, no longer facing Nightmare. Anyone else would have thought turning their back on someone like him was a suicidal idea, even while he was wounded; the guardian did not, and even Nightmare was too baffled to see it as a chance to counterattack. "Believe me, you would be much better off if you decided to join us. I don't want you to work  _for_  me, but  _with_  me."

 ** _"Is that so,"_**  Nightmare deadpanned, the pain finally going away for good and letting him clear his mind. He still waited a few seconds to move, and stood up slowly, only then noticing a faint headache at the motion but choosing to ignore it in order to focus his entire attention on the guardian. He had lost his interest in fighting back unless self-defense was needed, his curiosity piqued once again, but he was still ready for any offense.

"So is," Quetzalcoatl replied, intently watching the melting skeleton as he got to his feet. He didn't want to, but Nightmare felt weighed down by that stare; those bicolored eyes bore into him, analyzing his every move like a prowling wolf would observe its defenseless prey. He stared back, though, pretending he didn't feel threatened.

"Tell me, what would you do on your own?" Quetzalcoatl asked him, not expecting an answer. "You have no hideout, and your current powers will not aid you with that. You are alone against many powerful beings, all clustered together, that won't hesitate to fight back. You are much weaker than you used to be, having lost most of the abilities you had learnt over time. You will not be able to bend this world to your will, for your precious Tree of Feelings is still alive and well and you are not getting close to it anytime soon. Do you need any other reasons?"

Nightmare scoffed, feigning indifference even though he did give the guardian's words a quick thought. Why would  _he_  know what he could and couldn't do, though? The fact that he had been the one to give him the apples – he was not even going to question where he got them from if he claimed their tree was unharmed – did not mean he knew  _everything_  about him. It was true he did not feel as powerful as he used to, but all he had to do was learn and practice.

He didn't care how many powerful people were there. He was stronger than all of them, and if he turned out not to be, then he would keep practicing and bending his own abilities like he did back in life until he became godlike again. There were many solutions he could think of at hand; no need to go as low as the rogue human serving that bizarre creature.

 ** _"And why would joining you be any better?"_**  Nightmare asked bitterly, expecting next to nothing interesting as an answer. He wanted lesser creatures to work for  _him_ ; he was not going to be on anyone's side, he was not going to be anyone's attack dog, and if he had to fight to prove his point, he would gladly comply.

He had always done well on his own. He didn't see the difference.

"Ah, I never thought you would ask." Quetzalcoatl smiled. He paced with slow, calculative steps, never taking his sight off Nightmare; the skeleton didn't either, teeth gritted and stance defensive. "For one, you will be able to scheme your own plans without need of being in plain sight of everyone, in your own, inaccessible lair. You will have your own servants to rule over and bend to your will, eventually. You will have your entertainment, your unlimited sources of negative energy, all for yourself without need to make their capture difficult. I can and will help you grow stronger, more than you ever were."

Nightmare was staring the guardian down with hatred, but he was also paying close attention to his words. He had no doubt Quetzalcoatl probably had no trouble obtaining what he wanted without hesitation, considering the extent he had gone to in order to bring him back to darkness' clutches, which meant he  _could_ give him all he was mentioning… but Nightmare had to know  _why_  he would bother. There was a chance he was only trying to change his mind for the time being, and would end up tricking him.

He had just gotten rid of his pitiful life as a useless vessel, he was still adjusting to the delightful negative energy that gave him life, he had lost most of his powers and abilities, and he had no idea where he was or what exactly was happening – all of that, however, did  _not_  mean he was stupid enough to fall into a trap.

He hummed, passive.  ** _"Why?"_**

Quetzalcoatl stopped for a moment; the rattlesnake tail swished gently, like that of an amused cat's who had found a courageous mouse. "Because I respect you," was his plain answer, though Nightmare could not bring himself to believe it just like that. He didn't feel respected; he felt like he was being seen as a hapless insect. "It is only fair that I give you liberties. I would not like your existence to be meaningless, and since you would be deprived of your goals whilst alone…"

Nightmare was still not buying the whole respect thing, but chose to keep listening. Something interesting was happening for once, and it would be a shame to ruin it. He had already ruined his encounter with his brother, thanks to his shifting mind that could only think about bringing senseless death and destruction and had made him forget everything else. He missed his fear…

**_"…so, what makes you think I would be happy to stay just because we kidnap a few people to keep me entertained? I don't see the point."_ **

Cunning eyes gave him a side-glance. "That is not my intention, exactly. There is another reason I want you with me, that gives meaning to all I'm doing  _for_  you. I am sure you are wondering where your brother went..."

An eye widened slightly at the coincidental mention of Dream, but Nightmare lost interest soon enough.  ** _"Who cares? He lived, good for him."_**  He turned his head away, indifferent.  ** _"He didn't even have a soul, anyway. Useless."_**

It was something he'd realized. The energy he had felt within him was not a soul, merely his core. The only reason it was any fun to terrorize his brother was because of the power he used to hold, and because of his unstoppable urge to save the entire world no matter the cost. Knowing him, he would not touch a single apple ever again, and with their mother there, he had noticeably let down his desire to protect those around him. Most of the time, anyway.

He was one more in the bunch in that world. Nothing interesting about him anymore, sadly.

Quetzalcoatl hummed, barely audible. "But you would like to have someone to hurt, someone to break... someone to constantly give you negative feelings. Someone that is more attached to you than any regular critter. Someone you hate, and someone you enjoy hurting. Would you not?"

Nightmare looked back at him, eye narrowed as he attempted to decipher what Quetzalcoatl was hinting at.

"Just like I need you, I also need your brother equally as much, and his artist friend. And, if possible... that broken skeleton he keeps messing with. Not only for you to feast on their pain, but for us to control them. I need them to work, not with me, but  _for_ me. For  _us_. And as we all know, they would never accept. No conditions would ever make them agree. Unlike you… they would need to be forcibly broken if they are to serve us."

Nightmare was beginning to understand what he had in mind, but he couldn't see the reason why either.

…it did not sound like a bad idea, though. He didn't know what Quetzalcoatl would need someone as pathetic as Dream for, or someone as daring and stubborn as Ink, or someone as unpredictable as Error… but his curiosity was growing, and he was not trying to hide it.

"This is the very last time this conglomeration of worlds you call the multiverse will see the light of day. This, and other worlds with no respect for life. I want it to be special, I want to do what I had not been able to before, I want it to be just like I had envisioned... and that requires all these people to destroy themselves. I could easily erase you all with a mere flick of wrist, but..." He gave Nightmare a knowing look. "That wouldn't be any fun, now would it?"

Nightmare shifted, as the pieces flowed together. What the world had done to him to make him go to such extents to make it disappear  _again_  was out of his knowledge, and he felt like it would always be, but he had to at least have an idea… It could still be a trick.

**_"And the point of this is...?"_ **

"The real point may still be too complicated for you to understand." Quetzalcoatl paced closer to the melting skeleton, who took as step back in anticipation. "My main goal for now is to dispose of every living thing trapped in what they have learnt to call their 'redemption paradise'... and I want it to be entertaining. More entertaining so than anything that has ever happened to them."

The two creatures stood in front of each other. "You choose to follow along, and I will give you people to... play around with. I will make sure no one bothers you, I will make you as powerful as you can be. You help me capture our three remaining skeletons, I leave it up to you to break them until they obey, and then… we watch them kill those they had vowed to protect, those they love, those who looked up to them. Their families, their friends, everything they have ever known… And then, you, personally, can dispose of them however you want to. Or keep them around. Whatever you wish..."

 ** _"...are you bribing me?"_**  Nightmare inquired, frowning judgmentally, pondering and watching the guardian with unrelenting mistrust. He had very mixed opinions about his vague plans, but… what  _could_  he say? It would be fun to watch Dream obey each and every single one of his orders and have him kill anyone in his sight. It was something he had never done. He had broken him before, but he had never bothered turning him into a mindless slave...

At what price, though? He would still have to take orders himself, he would still have to be  _below_  someone. He would have someone watching him and judging his actions, someone that would rule over him no matter how lightly, and he hated that. He wanted to be on his own. He wanted to be free of any kind of restraints. He wanted to do whatever he pleased, whenever he pleased, and having more or less liberties did not mean he would still be an underling himself.

Quetzalcoatl made a vague shrug in response, "If you want to see it that way. You  _should_  consider your choices, though. You should think about what you lack now, and what you will gain should you choose to join me… If there is one thing you must know, is that you do  _not_ want me as your enemy. It would be… a true pity, having to dispose of something as interesting as you are."

The single eye of turquoise narrowed with defiance against the obvious threat, but Nightmare didn't say anything. He didn't precisely want the same creature that had put him out of battle in less than a minute as an enemy, that was true… but he didn't want to serve anyone either.

Then again, there seemed to be more pros than cons to staying by the guardian's side... The mere thought of those three, especially Dream, obeying him like that army he used to have was delightful to say the least, and as far as he had managed to catch up on… that world was going to end up in despair, thanks to him.

"I will leave that up to you, now."

Nightmare was taken out of his thoughts when Quetzalcoatl wandered off without a second glance, slowly. His pensive gaze followed the guardian in silence.

"Just consider that you will never find your way out of here, unless I want you to know. And for that, I need your trust. It would be better for you to earn it, and soon,  _telpocatl_ …"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and one more word to the list  
> *telpocatl: youth/young man (nah, Nighty is not precisely young, but he sure is compared to Quetz)
> 
> so a lot of things here  
> first: happy late or early new year ^w^! timezones are confusing
> 
> now that I have all the drafts for this story completed and know exactly what direction it's going to take, I'll warn you now so that you don't get a surprise: this will eventually get dark enough for me to consider changing the rating (even though I'm still not sure I will. it depends). believe it or not, there will be fluffy and even comical moments somewhere in there! but this gets worse before it gets better, the other two stories are probably teddy bears compared to this, so beware. u^u oh, and some good news I guess, this is probably going to be the longest story too. it might even reach 40 chapters, but I'm not sure about that
> 
> well, that's all, so uh... hold on to those seatbelts! ^3^


	20. Written in Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There it was again, that loss of the typical vigor that made Ink himself, all thanks to the paper neatly folded and shielded in his hand. His eyes were narrowed in deep thought, and it was more than obvious that he didn't want to continue talking. His voice had gone from angered to tense to almost desperate, and if Error didn't know him any better he would have thought he was…
> 
> "are you… afraid of me, or…?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i wrote all of this on my phone oof. there's probably a typo somewhere, i'll get to that when i can

"My, my, look who showed up late."

When Kamea walked into the cave, he was as nonchalant as ever, despite knowing he would be walking straight into trouble.

He was at least glad that Nightmare and Quetzalcoatl hadn't decided to stay in the deeper parts of the cave. He wouldn't have felt like looking for them, otherwise. They had stayed near the entrance, past one of the many passages; the one that led to a large chamber where Quetzalcoatl liked to store his potions, to be specific.

He was surprised, too, that Nightmare was even there, and was taken aback when he saw him. He had never believed the guardian's plans to bring him back and get him on their side would work, let alone in such little time. He had reasons to believe it hadn't been a pacific deal, knowing Quetzalcoatl's ways to get what he wanted no matter the cost. Nightmare didn't seem to mind being there, though.

The melting skeleton was still observing his somber surroundings, illuminated only by the array of potions and scattered clusters of crystals clinging to the walls, not too interested in the human's presence. The darkness and uninviting atmosphere of the cave reminded him of the castle he had created so long ago, which was good enough for him. It didn't feel all that different, he thought; the only downside was getting used to all the chambers, corridors, dead ends... So much to remain hidden from nosy creatures.

"Well, it's a big world out there," was the human's lackluster excuse for his absence. Quetzalcoatl did not bother looking up at him, focused instead on the capsules hanging from his staff and what was left of them. "I wouldn't say it's easy to get here."

Nightmare gave him a passing glance but that was about all the direct attention Kamea received for the time being.

"Ah, but that is not the issue at hand."

Quetzalcoatl left the two capsules he was holding, glowing in eerie shades of blue, back where they were to finally give Kamea a narrowed glare. The tone of his voice seemed unfazed but the human knew very well that he was anything but calm and in the mood to be nice when he used it; he was expecting it, anyway.

"You were not supposed to be out there. You, in fact, were supposed to be making sure no one that was not of our interest wandered close to the Tree, simple task you decided not to carry out today."

It was then when Nightmare felt the buildup of tension between the two, which was the only reason he was given to pry his attention off memorizing where he was. His stay seemed off to a great start...

Kamea did not say anything for a moment. "Well, there can always be a distraction or two..."

Quetzalcoatl gave him no reply. His gaze stared right into the human's, unblinking, quiet as could be. Nightmare didn't deem it a good idea to say or do anything despite his inner wishes to add some mockery in the way; he was better off waiting for something that could actually be enjoyable in silence. There was no reason to aggravate the guardian, though he did want to mess around with the human.

He had been told a few things about him already after accepting to join Quetzalcoatl in whatever covetous plans he had. He had proved to be overall loyal, but could cross a few lines here and there and be quite the disturbance. He seemed like an interesting target.

Quetzalcoatl took in a breath as though he were about to give an exasperated sigh, but instead paced over to the other side of the chamber they were in, to the capsules held firmly against the wall by small pieces of the glowing blue crystals that decorated the entirety of the cave; taking his staff as he did so. The heterochromatic eyes of the human followed his languid movements with mistrust.

"Sometimes, despite everything, you seem to take me for a fool, Kamea."

The sickle crystal atop of the scepter shimmered for a second, and the shard that held one of the capsules, one that glowed a deeper purple than the ones used for teleportation, was released and caught in a swift movement.

Kamea never bothered to remember which potion did what aside from the teleportation ones, as those were the only ones he was allowed to handle, though he was certain that one was not supposed to be amongst the most dangerous. He remembered Quetzalcoatl saying something about testing a few things with them soon, so it was probably that.

He didn't discard the possibility of it being used as punishment though. He knew what kind of effects some had. It wasn't pretty.

Nightmare was giving him that aggravating _you're-in-trouble_  kind of smirk in the background, and he countered it with a concealed scowl of his own that Quetzalcoatl didn't see. Working with them or not, he had a feeling they were not bound to get along. Not that he  _appreciated_  Quetzalcoatl's company either, but he and the guardian would surely be on better terms for the time being.

"I know exactly where you were." Quetzalcoatl continued, observing the capsule before hanging it along the others dangling from the staff. "I presume you have an explanation for your blathering?"

Kamea leaned against the wall, rather absentmindedly. Nightmare couldn't help but notice quite the lot of distance between them; even he would have felt the slightest bit intimidated had he done something Quetzalcoatl did not want him to, as he had already learnt to be careful around him, but the human was fairly passive about it. He couldn't sense any type of fear in the air, only a tense foreboding. The guardian was not happy despite the tranquil exterior, and Nightmare found it menacing how hard it was to read him.

"They would be better off knowing what is going on, or at least having an idea of it, instead of going crazy trying to figure it out." was the human's so-called excuse, and he uttered it without hesitation. He decided he even had something else to add, "Don't you think?"

The glare of green and blue hardened, and Quetzalcoatl left the potions alone for a moment. "What you think would be better couldn't matter less. I don't remember anyone, much less  _neh_ , telling you to utter a word."

That was when the tone that had feigned calmness stopped pretending, and became cold, irate. Nightmare had to keep an eye on the guardian in case he turned against him too just like he would turn on the bold human, it seemed.

Kamea's imprudence noticeably faltered that time, though he tried not to show it much. "Not like I told them enough..." he muttered. He wasn't looking at the other two even though he should. He wasn't seeing what Quetzalcoatl was doing, and that was when the rampant feather lodged in his forearm, right through the white sleeve, caught him by surprise, and he reeled back.

He had been expecting something, yes, something for having the guts to disobey in order to make things more interesting against the guardian's wishes, but he would have wondered why putting him to sleep would have made him reconsider — had a stinging pain not become so strong in so little time.

Whichever kind of venom was in that feather was not the one that rendered people comatose, though he probably should have seen that coming too knowing how easily it was for Quetzalcoatl to change the effects of the venom on the feathers, thanks to some of those potions. That was the harmful one, the one with the standard effects of any venomous sting or bite; and it was only good it was softer than it could have been.

He had seen the effects it had on others, though he had never angered Quetzalcoatl enough for him to use it against him. Clueless people that dared stand in his way, that disrespected him or that got too close to the Tree of Life while he wasn't the one around to show them the consequences of their curiosity. It lasted long, the searing pain capable of lasting days according to the guardian though those that had been poisoned were disposed of soon after.

Kamea wouldn't deny he had been afraid for a second or two that the feather he plucked off his arm held venom that potent, but he was sure enough that it wasn't. It got to a point were it hurt too much to play it off, like a thousand needles, but it remained there; at max, it only made him clutch the damaged area out of reflex.

Quetzalcoatl was always unpredictable, and no matter how much one could know him, they would never guess what he was thinking or how he could react to certain situations — and how fast he could do so. Less than a second was all it always took for him to deal with what he didn't want, and it had always worked.

"I do not like this new attitude of yours." the guardian admonished, all as the human leaned his aching forearm, the pain of which had already spread to the rest of the limb and around the shoulder, against the rock walls as though that would somehow ease the burning feeling. He kept eye contact with Quetzalcoatl, while begrudgingly holding back all the profanity he wanted to say, and also keeping in any audible pain that would make him look weaker.

There was not a single speck of regret, of respect and trust for a human that had stuck by his side since the day he was given life, in the guardian's cold eyes. Nightmare kept a close look at his demeanor when angry; it seemed like not even those that worked with him would get any respect if they made the slightest attempt to go against his ideals. Not something to be happy about, but Nightmare liked his way of thinking and acting. He didn't see himself having a reason to act reckless, and from what he had seen, it almost looked like Quetzalcoatl respected him more than he respected Kamea.

He had good reason to.

"Haven't changed in years, actually." Kamea mustered, feigning a grin. "This 'attitude' has always been right by my side. Heh..."

The pain was slowly becoming a little worse than he remembered it to be, just enough to make an action as simple as speaking exhaustive, and perhaps Quetzalcoatl had had just about enough of his antics; he praised the moment he'd decided to have a plan B just in case he didn't take it lightly.

The scowl aimed at him told him it might not be so easy to carry out, though. "The only reason you are ever allowed to leave without permission is in order to bring something useful to my attention. If you think this applies as an excuse–"

"That's not the only reason I went out there." Kamea managed out, and he was unable to hide a wince. Quetzalcoatl had a tendency to, not show, but  _show_  that he was not in a good mood, and it was worsening, becoming a more aggressive habit. Kamea knew why he was doing what he was doing; he was going to take more precautions next time, but in a way, it was worth it.

Quetzalcoatl did not seem amused by whatever else Kamea had done where he was not supposed to be, but that lack of interest only lasted until the human reached out for the bunch of folded papers wedged in his belt with the only arm that was responsive and not aching like it had been plunged in boiling water. He'd been careful to put them on the opposite side of where he had the dagger's sheath in case Quetzalcoatl deciphered a different intention; his watch was heavy and attentive.

"I don't leave to waste my time," Kamea continued, offering the four or five papers clustered together in a more or less neat fold. The guardian observed them with an inscrutable mix of bewilderment and mistrust before taking them, rather harshly so, and having a closer look without unfolding them.

"What is this?"

It was a simple question brimming with disappointment. Of course, without context, some papers seemed an absurd excuse to dismiss orders, but Kamea still knew what he was doing. He hoped so, at least. Quetzalcoatl was becoming less understanding with him as his plans began to take true shape and gain seriousness in their advance.

"The artist's personal notes." Kamea winced again, but tried to ignore the burning pins and needles that had already rendered his arm numb. "Sensitive information. Might come in handy if he turns out to be too stubborn."

To say the least, the human was relieved at seeing that scowl of disapproval and ire on the guardian's traits disappear. Not gone for good, but certainly appeased to the point where Kamea could bring himself to regain calmness again. He didn't miss how disappointed Nightmare looked, though; he was looking forward to a more violent reaction to a blatant insolence, at the very least similar to what had happened to him not that long ago. Kamea knew how to play his cards around an irritated, omnipotent creature. He would have to find his own methods, too.

Quetzalcoatl's increase of interest on the folded papers was noticeable, though he didn't seem about to express his gratitude. Kamea was no sweet angel that would do anything for him, and he would never let him think he could get away with whatever he wanted. The effects of the venom would last a few hours; he would make sure they did.

He was still glad, though. Ink and Dream were bound to be stubborn. It was the psychological harm that would change their defiant minds, and those notes would be of help eventually.

His thanks, however, were kept to himself for the most part. The only way he showed them was by leaving Kamea alone. He already thought he was being too merciful, when he perhaps shouldn't be with Nightmare around in order to teach him what kind of treatment those against him received.

Well, there would be many chances for him to see that.

The guardian hummed, glancing at the papers again. They looked so insignificant, yet could hold a key to the closed minds they would soon be faced with. "Fair enough." he muttered, not content with Kamea's sudden utility despite his impudence. His stance relaxed, almost begrudgingly so. "You're dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Kamea was clutching his arm when he stepped away from the wall that was giving him support. The pain was more annoying than anything at that point, but he would have still preferred not to have it gnawing at him to begin with. What had to be done had to be done, though. He didn't always like Quetzalcoatl's planning, and sometimes he was too rash to let it go when the matter at hand was small and unimportant compared to their bigger goals.

"So I guess I'm not allowed to stay?" he asked quietly, expecting it to be a rhetorical question. The guardian's silence proved him right, and he breathed a small laugh, able to play off the ache with complete naturalness. "Well.  _Now_  I can go, huh?"

Quetzalcoatl didn't humor his jokes. "Be careful with yourself, Kamea. There is only so much I will allow. I feel lenient today; don't grow used to it. Next time you go by your own rules, I will not be half as merciful with you anymore."

Kamea didn't want to appear intimidated, but he did against his own will.

"Don't you dare cross the line wherever it is you go this time, and be back by night. We have much to do today... Now, go."

The human stalled for a few seconds, despite Quetzalcoatl having left it clear he didn't want to see his face there anymore. He knew what he meant, he knew what they were scheduled to do once the surface was clearer of meandering people, and he didn't like the fact that Nightmare would be included so soon. He didn't trust him, and he didn't know why Quetzalcoatl of all people was so comfortable in his presence. He could already see things going downhill and years and years of waiting going down the drain, but, all in all... at least  _something_  would happen.

There were many things he wanted to say, but Kamea left without uttering a word, clutching his arm out of instinct and not in an attempt to get rid of the pricking ache that would linger for quite a while.

There was a beat of silence.

"Did you hear that,  _noicniuh_?"

Once Kamea was surely gone, Quetzalcoatl turned to look at Nightmare. Aside from the fact that he never understood his choice of archaic vocabulary, he was starting not to look down on him, but he still had some waiting left to do. He had decided to join because he was curious more than anything; many things were promised, and many of those were things he would like to see and that, no matter how, would be more difficult than it was worth to see whilst on his own. As far as he could see, Quetzalcoatl tended to think in a way similar to him; it was why he didn't consider staring back at those piercing eyes a good idea, but he did it anyway.

He wouldn't submit to him like that human, with or without snark.

"We will be striking soon. And we are already counting on you."

Without realizing, Nightmare was thinking the same way Kamea thought about him; why trust him so much when he had only been there for barely an hour? The guardian might be able to defeat him with ease, yes, and he had accepted his terms, yes, but Nightmare didn't see that as a reason to be treated like they had been working side by side for years. Kamea had been with him for years and Nightmare saw no trust or respect between them — what made  _him_  so special?

It felt like a joke. He couldn't help it. He still felt belittled, treated like a little weapon that would only be harmful on command and not like something that could bring chaos and was to be respected. It was the one thing Nightmare didn't like about being there. Quetzalcoatl himself had been the one to tell him he respected him, but it didn't seem like it. Not the way Nightmare had envisioned. Perhaps it was because he had never been under someone, and he was unable to see the fine line of deference between them.

 _ **"Already?"**_  he muttered, trying to make his way to more logical answers.  ** _"I haven't done anything for you yet, and you are counting on me just like that?"_**

"Of course." The answer was much simpler than he thought it would be, and that irked him. "You joined us for a reason, did you not?"

A single eye narrowed in suspicion.  _ **"Seems like blind trust to me."**_

The brief laugh in response irked him too, and it was the last of his intentions not to show it. He truly felt like he was being treated the same way a bad joke would, like the two of them had been friends for eons. Nightmare was not looking to be friends, but not to be enemies either. Sometimes, though, the guardian almost made him want to change his mind about his neutrality.

"I know I said I needed your trust, but I have little belief in such things."

Quetzalcoatl was again paying more attention to the capsules held on the rock walls than on the melting skeleton. He released another one, caught it on its way down with clear experience, and put it with the rest faintly clinking against each other on the scepter. "Counting on you is only a phrase. You cannot count on anyone. All corrupted minds will eventually go their own way, no matter what. Kamea will turn against me, you will turn against me... Nothing lasts forever. You have to take any chances you have before you lose them. You two are useful now, and it would be folly to waste that chance."

Nightmare got a different side of that story though, something more worthy of paying attention to than the guardian's philosophy.  _ **"So all of these things you promised... Why should I believe them? If you can't count on anyone, I shouldn't count on you."**_

There was hostility creeping up at a fast pace, and yet Quetzalcoatl kept his attention on sorting the potions. "That depends. I cannot rely on you fully, but you are here because I took a chance. You should do the same. Some people are more reliable than others, and only patience can tell."

Nightmare gave him no response, aside from a sullen look. He had many mixed thoughts about the respect thing, about being important and not just one more pawn. But Quetzalcoatl was right, in a way; he would have to wait and see what he had in store. He could always leave and not return if things turned out to be not to his liking, but he would give it a long try. Better safe than sorry.

Keeping his suspicious attitude, he continued watching the guardian; he made a mental note to figure out what those potions were, because he couldn't help but be intrigued.  _ **"...whatever. And what exactly are we doing?"**_

Finally, he got his attention. It seemed to have been a question Quetzalcoatl was waiting for in order to return the eye contact, and grin in that malicious way that made even Nightmare nervous. "We are going to reunite a couple of siblings, of course."

The statement caught Nightmare off-guard, though his interest was soon piqued by the reveal. He hadn't expected everything to be done so fast; if anything, he had thought they would be finding useless people for him to torment in the meanwhile. It was rather lonely and dull in there, and he was aching to have someone to wring despair out of. He always had Kamea, though...

Quetzalcoatl didn't miss the passing surprise of the melting skeleton, "I know it sounds abrupt, but why wait any longer? All we were missing was you. Now, everything will be much easier."

Nightmare frowned, hostile, though not toward the guardian.  ** _"What about that old hag? You are getting nowhere near Dream with her around."_**  He scoffed,  _ **"I doubt the coward is ever going to leave her side."**_

"Nim is nothing to worry about." Quetzalcoatl said, with little hesitation. Nightmare seemed unsure of his words, and for good reason. "She would never risk the safety of the Tree of Feelings for the sake of nothing but a skeleton. All it takes is a little convincing..."

The grin widened ever so slightly, fanged and sinister. He appeared to be confident enough; not much there was for Nightmare to complain about. Besides, it was  _his_  intention to go there either way. He wanted to see his brother's face when they met again. His mother's face. Would that not be wonderful? It would surely be enough despair for a day, especially if they had to take Dream from her. He was wondering what kind of standoff they would be faced with, if they had to cause some destructive trouble to rip that useless skeleton from Nim or even if she would personally hand him over upon the realization of him not being worth it.

He would give  _that_  a chance.

* * *

_'Nothing feels right anymore. To be honest, everything has lost its meaning to me. Any other day, I wouldn't have let this happen, but now I just can't keep going. I'm just... there. That's all. A drop of water in the ocean. If I can't bring myself to create, if I'm unable to defend those I love... then there's no place for me here. I just exist. If I knew things would go this badly... Heh, sometimes... sometimes I just wish I hadn't survived..._

_And, Dream, if you happen to read this... I'm sorry. I just can't. Not anymore. I'm sure you could do a better job at protecting the multiverse than I'd ever wish to. I give up.'_

The paper, having grown old, already yellowing but still holding on and maintaining itself readable despite the tremulous yet recognizable handwriting, was held firmly by phalanges of red and yellow. Their hold just barely wrinkled its frail form as mismatched eyes observed it with full attention, analyzing each and every letter like they held more secrets than a hidden treasure.

That was the first time Error had gotten his hands on that one note in particular, that one he had strived to have a look at for so long, only having seen Ink reading or carrying it around before. He always looked so different when he had it with him, and took extra precautions when the time came to put it back in its rightful place at the very end of that cave he had made – the door to which, strangely enough, had been left ajar that day despite it always being closed with a sketched lock away from nosy critters. It was always left in the same spot; that was the only reason Error even knew which one was the one he wanted amongst all the other papers in there.

The way the artist looked at it, or the way he stared at nothing with pensive eyes while holding it right by his side, had always been something that allured every bit of curiosity in Error. Ink had many identical papers lying around, always, some empty, some full of drawings, some with things written all over them, some cut and folded into countless shapes... Some made him laugh, others made him proud of his improvement over the years, but that one... That was the one that changed his entire demeanor as if it had snapped its nonexistent fingers and sent him into sorrowed hypnosis.

Error had always wanted to know what was up with that one, despite his best efforts to stay away from anything to do with Ink and his common sense telling him it was just a piece of paper. Quite some time ago, he had begun wondering if maybe whatever was written on it that made Ink look so distant had something to do with the hatred said other skeleton had toward him. It seemed like a stretch, a senseless and desperate guess, but he had been connecting some dots for a while. And even if its content and the loathing were not related, then maybe it had something that could help him get Ink off his back for just a day.

He still had several reasons to believe the missing pieces were right there, though. Error didn't know if it was coincidental that most of the times he saw Ink with that note was not long after they had one of their well-known one-sided arguments, but it almost seemed like so. There was always room to try, after all.

It had taken Error some guilt to go to Ink's hideout and find out in the first place, though. Everyone had been instructed to stay in more populated places as opposed to being alone or in reduced groups earlier on, or to at least stay in secluded zones they knew by heart, and of course had been told to be careful down in the Underground. Ink had volunteered to tell those that resided there not to stray deep into Waterfall, and it was when Error whispered that he should, indeed, go that the artist went verbally berserk against him again.

The shouts aimed in his direction had been more of the same stuff he was always faced with when Ink felt like it was time to lash out and ridicule him, so he had zapped out of sight right after that, ignoring every warning they had been given and leaving his brother dismayed in order to get rid of that gnawing curiosity once and for all and see if that paper really had something to do with the outbursts he could no longer handle.

He still had no idea if it  _did_  have something to do with the way Ink loathed him despite it being in his hands, despite his eyes trying their best to understand it as if it was written in a foreign language, but it  _had_  to have some clues, somewhere.

Now that he could finally have a look at it, fortunately without even having to ask, and with nobody else around, he could almost see the reason why Ink's attitude would change when reading it, but there were still unsolved mysteries revolving around it. Error had expected many things to be written on that paper, but not something that radiated such a depressive haze, especially when it was something that belonged to loud, reckless, intrusive Ink.

Reading it made him feel strange, and he didn't quite like that, though that was why he chose to continue reading it. It was almost like it was calling out to him, trying to tell him something he couldn't hear. If he was ever asked to explain what he felt when looking at it, he would not know how to respond, but those had to be more than just words, much more than Ink having a bad day.

Every once in a while, when Ink's bashing got out of hand, he would keep telling him things like he was a genocidal psychopath, or that almost everyone had died because of him, or that he had ruined his life and many other people's. Error kept it to himself, but he sometimes overheard those same things, uttered in a much lighter tone, in small conversations between the people he walked past every day. There was always something in the back of his mind that would flare at those insinuations, but he never paid it more attention than he should. He tended to shrug it off as confusion, maybe anger at being talked about without him knowing.

That sensation was stronger than usual as he held the note, and it wasn't only because he had argued with Ink once again and he was still thinking about it. Someone had to have done something awful to him for him to have written that, and for him to be so protective over it. The feeling of being closer to those words despite having never read the paper before was too strong for Error's liking, and he was certain he was missing something.

Well, the door that led to the cave was open when he got there, and that was not his fault; he could always take a further look around in search for more possible clues that would tell him whether or not  _he_  had done something wrong, at some point…

The note was ripped right out of his hand in one swift motion, producing a sound that had made him believe it had been torn in half but was only the result of paper scraping against bone. Error was left with his hand still lifted as though he were still holding the note he had been so focused on, his expression static, blank, and he didn't even need to look up to know who had come back.

"Who the hell gave you permission to be here?"

Movements calm and composed, Error tucked his hand back into his pocket along with the other with a blink before moving his head up to stare at a very flustered Ink with half-lidded eyes. He was holding the paper a little too tightly for how emotionally attached he was to it, as far as Error could see; his pupils, randomized triangles of fiery red, bore into him in an attempt to burn right through his nonchalant gaze like lasers.

Error had had just about enough of him for a day to tolerate him any further. He was not going to retaliate that time, just remain calm, not willing to give the artist the benefit of seeing him affected by his hatred again. That was the last time he acted as his punching bag, and being nonchalant about his presence was just the tip of the iceberg. He still had to find out how to properly deal with him, and that paper just might be the solution…

**"i don't remember you giving permission to x-tale to be here, either, and yet you let them kick you out whenever they please."**

He knew he had given a low blow when Ink faltered; he held back the need to grin.

"That doesn't– Who _told_  you you could snoop around  _my_  stuff?"

Error only shrugged. He was more positive than ever that he was in the right, anyway. Sure, that area 'belonged' to Ink in one way or another, but there were no barriers to prevent people from entering and no signs to warn them about taking one more step, only a cave closed with a door the lock to which was gone. He didn't do anything wrong.

**"the door was open. not my fault."**

Ink was suddenly taken aback by his statement, blinking in utter confusion, his scowl replaced by something that could only be described as puzzled worry. His gaze immediately shifted to the door he hadn't paid attention to before, which was, indeed, open, its lock gone even though it had been there last time - he was  _sure_  of it, despite his treacherous memory.

Ink stammered something that was not meant to become real words, approaching the sketched door which had become an impossible sight.

"B-but-…  _What_ …?"

Error didn't pay much attention to Ink's bafflement and dismay in response to the lock's disappearance, though he was somewhat inquisitive about it. It wouldn't be long until he was blamed for opening that door…

"What did you  _do_?"

There it was.

Error only humored the flustered skeleton with a sigh, not moving from where he was, not making any attempt to do so, and not looking even amused on the slightest. That was the first time he had chosen to ignore Ink whilst listening to him at the same time, and it felt much better than imitating him or letting him take out his anger on him. He should do that more often.

**"why did i have to do anything? i told you, it was open."**

The scowl came back right then and there. "It was closed  _and_ locked last time I was here. I'm the only one that can open it and the lock is literally gone! I  _do_  wonder who would do such a thing…"

In all honesty, it was hard for Error to keep his cool with accusation after accusation, but losing his temper and saying things without thinking was probably what Ink wanted from him to further believe he was the good guy, and he was no longer going to give him that.  **"so i assume you weren't paying attention when i told you i can't use my powers… how, exactly, could i have opened this thing, and why would i have bothered had it been closed?"**

The last two questions were shamelessly ignored, almost talked over, as Ink glared daggers into him, "You do realize I don't believe that, right?"

Error raised an eyebrow.  **"not my problem."**

Ink tried in vain to retort him, teeth gritted, but something much less aggressive than what he was hoping to say came out instead. "Just get out of here."

That was what told Error that Ink was not in the mood for arguments, which was odd. The broken skeleton regarded him for a few seconds, observing him and his mannerisms and the paper he had loosened his grip on. He didn't have that firm, confident stance he always had when they were arguing, clearly; instead, he looked nervous, shifting in the spot and looking away, holding the note close to him.

That was new. He had definitely gotten the right one.

**"…so what's that piece of paper supposed to be?"**

"What's it to you?"

The answer was all too sudden, quick and defensive; it almost made Error flinch. Ink had all but dropped the hostile attitude, and he could tell with just a glance simply because of how used he was to it. He was on high alert, anxious… apprehensive. He had never acted that way around him, not that Error could tell. He looked desperate for him to leave, instead of willing to make the situation worse.

…they had never gotten into an argument whilst alone, Error realized.

**"you're acting weird because of a note."**

That blank statement seemed to have set Ink off, though still not enough for him to lash out like Error was expecting him to. It was like he no longer had it in him to speak his mind without a care in the world and was setting his own barriers for reason Error could not understand. Ink did seem about to say something that would mirror the outer rage he was faking, but instead he had to breathe out a brief laugh.

"A note. Yeah. A note. Just a note."

Ink was still giving a suppressed chuckle stained with disbelief as he turned around, walking toward the cave with a slow, shuffling pace and muttering a couple things that were incomprehensible for Error, folding the paper. He raised an eyebrow again, suspicious, more intrigued and confused than he had ever been around the more colorful skeleton. He knew he acted strange when he had that paper with him, just not that strange. Ink was the best example of an odd fellow sometimes.

The artist turned back around. Error could no longer read him when he did, but he still looked more nervous than he had ever been around him. "So you just go right ahead and cause unneeded trouble, you leave your brother freaking out, you come here without anyone telling you to, you snoop around my things and you- you call  _this,"_ He raised the note with an indignant emphasis in his words, shaking it lightly. "You call this a- a  _piece of paper_? Really? That's how it goes? And I thought I'd seen everything."

Ink heaved a profuse sigh, a hand travelling to his forehead. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, and Error said nothing; the silence, though brief, was sepulchral. "Look, just… just  _leave_."

There it was again, that loss of the typical vigor that made Ink himself, all thanks to the paper neatly folded and shielded in his hand. His eyes were narrowed in deep thought, and it was more than obvious that he didn't want to continue talking. His voice had gone from angered to tense to almost desperate, and if Error didn't know him any better he would have thought he was…

 **"are you…** _**afraid** _ **of me, or…?"**

Ink faltered again, and Error could've sworn his pupils had disappeared for a second. The rapid, indecisive change of shape of his pupils could only signify great aggravation and distress; he hadn't seen that before. "No." he blurted, voice wavering. "What's with the question? Of course not, that's– that's ridiculous,"

Ink spoke quickly, nervousness dripping off his words again and adding unease to the clear fear that lingered in it. His stance became even more uneasy, and it wasn't complicated to tell that not even he believed his own words. Error exchanged brief glances between him and the paper. Ink was fidgeting with it.

 **"…so you** **_are_ ** **?"**

"Can you just leave already?!"

Ink's demeanor was slowly but surely becoming panicked, and Error looked at the folded paper he held again. That was new indeed, and odd...

**"and all of this for some note? okay, then..."**

There was another moment of silence which felt all too strange for Error, since Ink would never let him be the last to speak. The glitched skeleton took a few steps away from Ink and the cave on his way to leave, somewhat disappointed, though he stopped. His curiosity was too strong to let him leave so soon, and it was possible he had found a way to keep Ink from messing with him.

"...it's not a note." the artist muttered, barely audible but enough for Error to hear and turn around. Ink wasn't facing him; instead he was looking down at the paper despite it being folded, like he could read it anyway, and he was looking at it with an emotional intensity Error had never seen him look at anything with.

"This should mean more to you. But oh, you just so happen to forget the  _only_  things that you should be mindful about. Isn't that great? Bet you're happier like this. You live without a care in the world and I have to put up with you and remember all...  _this_."

Ink's tone was as serious as could be despite his voice still wavering, and even Error knew better than to retort despite not sure of what the other skeleton was talking about.

The sketched door creaked as Ink opened it to step into the cave despite it not being made of wood, "Get out of here and don't come back."

 **"what if i** **_want_ ** **to come back?"**

Not even Error himself knew where that had come from all of a sudden, but he had to make sure of one specific thing before leaving. He had to test something, something he didn't quite believe.

Ink stopped, gave him a small side glance, took a shaky breath in — and closed the door behind him, quite in a hurry.

That told Error everything he wanted to know, and to say he was confused was an understatement. There was no denying Ink  _was_  afraid of him — why, to what point or since when, he had no idea, but he would like to figure out. That note had a lot to do with it, too. Ink was not going to tell him what he was looking for, though, so any other second there would be wasted time.

Out of Error's sight, Ink was holding the door closed with his back, letting out a  
breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He had no idea what even led up to all of that, and he didn't want to know — he was just glad it was over.

He'd been too close to panicking.

He had no idea how Error knew about that note in particular, or why he had bothered going there, or why he figured out why he was so aggressive with him all the time with such ease, but he was not looking forward to knowing.

Error was right, he was afraid of him. And very. It was, not the only, but the main reason why he was so cold toward him, why he thought of him as a growing danger. He never got over his past, and it had been deteriorating him ever since. He couldn't get rid of those memories, and he hated it. He kept forgetting everything, from trivial matters to important things, but he never forgot what Error put him through, and he already considered it a fact that he never would.

He was scarred, that was all there was to it, and he was more afraid than ever before. Oblivious Error didn't know why, but he knew he feared him. Ink was more than sure that he would use that against him.

It was about time to start avoiding him altogether. It was funny, because while he was in the Underground, Blueberry had told him to try and apologize to Error, or at least be gentler with him.

He had messed up big time, and he would never get rid of the feeling that he was in danger. Error was not supposed to ever find out.

"...this is all your fault!"

Ink yelled in the direction of the note without knowing who he was addressing, if anyone at all. Himself? Error? The paper? The  _universe_? He just knew he was blaming someone and no one at the same time. He had to let his anger and disquiet out before he would explode.

He needed some rest. He really needed to calm down. Maybe he was just exaggerating things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand a couple more
> 
> *neh (abbreviation of nehuatl): I/me  
> *noicniuh: my friend


	21. Whose Choice Is It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought hit him hard: what was he doing?
> 
> But the answer was clear to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long  
> exams and all

It seemed like it had become nighttime once again all too soon, but for Nim it had been a very long, idle day full of deep thoughts and regrets.

She watched the strong, orange light that coated the ground ebb away as the sun set behind her and the beautiful array of lilac clouds fade out of sight as the black of the settling night covered them in darkness, all with a blank expression. It had been a silent day, for everyone had heeded their warnings and stayed in less open places in much bigger groups. Sometimes, the silence would become unbearably loud because of it. Open spaces were all too empty, almost a haunting sight.

Dream had been sleeping since the others had left, and was still not showing signs of waking up anytime soon. She knew for a fact he had been awake for very brief, intermittent moments early in the afternoon, though, his eyes just barely breached open and staring at nothing in particular. She had tried calling out to him, once, but he'd paid no heed, either because he was submerged in whatever was going on in his head or because he was choosing to ignore his surroundings. Or her. He had ignored others who had passed by on their way to leave, even Neil who had brought himself to step away from the village to check on him. He hadn't moved even a single limb in hours, but he at least hadn't gone through any undeserved night terror since, which was as rare as the lack of people walking about.

If only that meant he would be alright.

From the moment peace and quiet had set in, the only thing Nim had been thinking about was Nightmare, and what they were supposed to do with him from then on. Dream hadn't spoken a word since Kamea left, and Nim had never seen him so taciturn, so tired of everything and so eager to disconnect from the world. Even while sleeping, his tightly shut eyes still screamed sorrow. She didn't know if he would ever get over the fact that his brother was gone.

_Again_.

She wouldn't blame him if he couldn't. That did not even seem like a  _possibility_  for him. The only thing he had been doing since Nightmare had come back to him was try to bring him back to that confident, cheerful skeleton he used to be despite his nature, try and make him see a better world and forget the past that hunted him down – all of those efforts, that hope, gone in an instant. If his loss hurt her, Nim could barely begin to imagine how much it had hurt Dream.

He was reliving the same past that had left him broken, and it was reopening the unforgotten wounds.

She wished none of that had been real, but there was no fighting reality, there was no fighting the proof they had to confirm the mere beginning of a disaster. They could only confront it, accept that that was the way they were going to live and face it, but such battle was a lost one for Dream. Losing Nightmare forever was one thing, but knowing he was out there again, corrupted, willing to bring pain to hundreds of people who had already seen hell, was another, and it was much more hurtful.

Nim was anything but sure she could bring Nightmare back; not like being anywhere near him was easy to begin with, let alone tampering with him in any way. Last time, she'd had to take his life in order to restore him, and the only reason she had been able to do so was because he had given up, but there, he had no more chances. It was something delicate, she couldn't hold on to false hopes and Dream shouldn't either.

He had already hoped he was someone that mattered in that world.

He was given a look of heartfelt sorrow that he never saw, plunged in a deep sleep with no visions, good or bad, to disturb his desperately needed rest. Each time she looked at him, Nim could feel her heart breaking a little further. He wasn't supposed to end that way, haunted by sorrow away from his brother. He didn't deserve it. Nobody did.

That was no place for redemption; it was an alluring mousetrap, patient and ready to catch anyone too naive off-guard and leave lifelong scars that would hunt them down until the day they would be wiped off the world for good. She should have known better than to believe no one would ever have any reason to return to their evil or corrupted ways again. She should have understood it was too good to be true, an impossible balance.

With all light around them gone save the ever so faint glow of the apples, Nim muttered an inaudible apology as she turned away from the slumbering skeleton, gazing off into the darkening horizon. Some nights were so dark without any moonlight to balance it that, if she focused enough, she could see the faint glow emanating from that cliff Nightmare was always so keen to visit in the far distance. It almost felt like yesterday when Nightmare had come back and adapted to his own schedule, and when she could freely move away from the Tree and watch Dream interact with carefree people with his unrelenting energy.

Even though she had always known it was more of an act than anything else.

Her memories brought her back to the day Dream had told her about Nightmare's... suicidal thoughts, to how distant and distressed and appalled he was despite his usual fervor as he explained himself, how much he had already been hurt by then. She felt like that had been the day everything changed for them, the very day in which their worlds turned upside down. It was only a matter of time until they would start falling…

It had been a very long time since none of the two had been alright, even in that place, and Nim hated to be aware of that, because all she ever wanted for them was to be happy, together, away from all the hardships they had endured for far too long. The world just kept on testing them, cruel and careless.

Another glance was spared at Dream, unmoving, quiet, his breathing even. After everything he had undergone with a heart of steel, he did not deserve to live a life away from his brother, he did not deserve to live as a target to cruel people that only wanted to destroy everything he believed in, to break him further, but that was what they were up against. He may take it worse or better over time, but he would never recover from losing his brother, and he would never recover from everything his brother would take from him if things kept going the way they were. He would never be the same after knowing what he really was after believing lies he had told himself with naive confidence.

Nim didn't know what she was supposed to do with him. With them.

It was then when she heard the suppressed sobs amidst the quiet of the night, and it took her a moment to analyze the sound and realize it was coming from beside her, from Dream. He wasn't facing her, but broken hiccups made his chest heave and nothing more was needed to be seen.

She didn't know how long he had been crying for. She was certain he hadn’t made a sound in hours, he had been quiet and motionless the entire time. Not like that mattered to her.

Nim forgot everything around her, any thought she could’ve been paying attention to, moving over next to Dream. He didn't seem to have acknowledged her presence as she sat right beside him, and she could see just how tightly shut his eyes were, the tears raining down from them, his hands clenched into fists.

_"Dream? Dream, what's wrong?"_  Nim urged, realizing she was letting her inner fear show without being able to stop it, but Dream was no longer pretending he was fine, and she shouldn't either. She was driven by worry, by woe.

"I'm an idiot," the skeleton wailed, flinching when a soft hand rested on his shoulder. He pressed his knees close to his chest, desperately held on to his cape as the coldness of the night and of his aching heart threatened to freeze him.

Something in him had snapped, it seemed. Nim wished she knew what exactly had gotten into him all of a sudden, especially because he had been so calm all day long. There were endless reasons for him to break down, though. Perhaps that was the most saddening part of it. Perhaps that explained his dreadful silence.

Racked with trepidation, she still held on to enough composure to softly call out to the shaken skeleton as she tried to turn him around, take him out of that shell of confinement he had plunged himself into to talk to him. Much to her surprise and dismay, though, he scrambled away from her, "No! You should– You should  _hate_  me!"

There was a very long pause between them that no one knew how to break, riddled with pitiful sniveling, and no matter how many thunderstorms or gales she could have gone through in her life, it was that soft breeze that made Nim feel cold.

_"Dream, what are you talking about? Why would I ever hate you?"_

Ugly sobs were torn from the skeleton under his mother's appalled, helpless gaze. He was trying to stop the tears from flowing, but his clenched fists went to his eyes as he found that to be an impossible goal. "B-because... because I'm a worthless  _failure_...!"

Dream sounded like he genuinely hated himself, and the dryad didn't think her heart would stand his mental state much longer. She was again next to him, trying to get his attention out of pure, unadulterated concern, but he was more focused on the angered, frustrated tears that wouldn't stop falling and the empty sensation in his chest despairing him.

_"Dream, please, listen-"_

Nothing she said or tried to do showed any results. Dream was not giving in, restless when it came to depreciating himself without control, choosing not to listen. It hurt to see him like that, especially when he had looked so peaceful just moments before, but Nim decided it would be best to wait until he burned that sadness out. It wasn't letting him think clearly, and she couldn't force him to talk in that saddening condition.

So she did that, even if it was difficult. She waited patiently, in silence, right by his side, a hand drawing soothing lines across his back. It took a while, minutes for sure, for the deprecating comments to die down, and a much longer while for the tears and sobs to end; they still hadn't when Dream said something else aside from anything to do with being a failure, an idiot, stupid, useless, "I c-can't... I can't do this anymore..."

His words were raided with hiccups he had no control over, barely raised over a whisper. He wasn't crying as hard now, but there was so much visible pain to be seen reflected on the tears that made their merry way down his eyes. They made them stung; he could hardly keep them open for long.

Once the worst part appeared to have gone through, leaving a trail of desperation, Nim tried again to start some much needed communication between them _, "Dream..."_

She waited until the sniveling skeleton showed signs of listening. He was looking at her askance and she could see just how tired he looked; she was starting to think he hadn't been sleeping at all, but pondering and brooding all day long. It would explain why his thoughts had broken loose like that without warning. He had to have been thinking about his brother and his reality, and not resting at all.

_"Dream, what's the matter?"_  she continued, while Dream rubbed the tears off his eyes with frustrated force. He averted his gaze again to keep it fixed on the ground, blinking unsteadily.

"I can't... I c-can't keep pretending... I d-don't want to... I'm  _tired_..."

In contrast with his anxious, distraught demeanor, Nim remained calm, caressing the back of his skull mindful of the cracks that had not yet healed. She watched for any signs of pain from the skeleton, but fortunately there were none.

"I just... I j-just wanted to be s–someone... I just w-wanted things to be like they were before... I always r-ruin everything, I'm s-such and idiot, y-you were right, I'm w–w-worthless...!"

_"You are_ not _worthless."_  

The words came out before Nim could realize, brimming with a clashing mixture of sorrow and resolve that elicited a small flinch from the skeleton. 

_"Don't you_ ever _say those things again-"_

"But I  _am_!" Dream practically snapped, so abruptly that even he recoiled at his own actions and used the shrill silence he created to curl back into himself. Nim was taken aback by the outburst. "You think I am too. That's not a secret. I can't do  _anything_. I can't even protect my own brother..." He had to take in a breath to ease himself and continue. "...I'm nothing, and I don't  _deserve_  to be here."

Nim observed him as he tried to submerge back into his own world, and it became clear he wasn't willing to say more, finding silence more alluring. The world felt empty around them for almost an entire minute.

_"Yes, you do."_

Dream looked at her askance, skeptical, his confusion in response to the intent tone genuine.

_"Come hell or high water, you are my son, and you mean more to me than anything ever would. You are not worthless to me. You never were and you never will be. You have the same right to be here as everyone else and I will never dare rest until you see that from the bottom of your heart."_

Dream froze, a close past hitting him with the strength of furious waves. That was the same thing he always told Nightmare whenever he was brooding, whenever he needed his guidance. What he felt was, he realized, what Nightmare did when he was despondent. It was a mirror, a perfect, polished mirror to what they had been like since his brother’s return, and he didn't know how to take it.

He hadn't accomplished all he had promised his brother... but he had meant it, he still did even if the situation seemed hopeless, and few people had ever sounded as honest as his mother.

He slowly turned his head toward her fully. She knew he needed her more than ever before, and she was happy to oblige.

_"Come here,"_

The skeleton hesitated for a moment before deciding that yes, he was in desperate need of guidance, of a light that would reassure him in the darkness. He was lost and confused, he didn't know if he should be angry or sad or if he should give up, but that didn't stop him from standing up, almost regretting it as the wave of cold hit in its entirety, and walking to his mother's arms. Nim pulled him into an embrace, shielding him from the cold and trying to shield him from the uncertainty that clouded and tore his mind in order to let it go of its thoughts.

"I'm s-sorry... I'm sorry f-for being an annoyance to you all the time..."

_"Dream, you have never been an annoyance to me, and your brother has never been either. You both mean so much more to me than you think."_

"B-but you said so yourself... You were disappointed..."

_"I_ was _."_

Dream closed his eyes as a hand caressed his cheek, making a vain attempt to ease his rambling thoughts and lessen their rare pessimism.

_"But I have no reason to be anymore. You may be different from those around you, but you are still special. To me. You can be whoever you want to be; that will never change the fact that you have a heart of gold. That is what truly defines you."_

Dream heaved a quiet sigh, too disheartened to take any encouragement. "...but what's the point if I can't do anything on my own... I just... I just give people false hopes..."

_"You do not need powers to be who you have been all along. You just need that strength of will you have always had. It is only one of the many reasons I had to keep the truth from you both. You have your own lives. And you fought for them. I would never take that away from you. I would never have the heart to do anything to hurt you. You are as alive as everyone here, and I treasure that more than you could imagine. You are not a nuisance, Dream."_

Dream narrowed his eyes, pondering, wondering. "That's what's wrong with me. That impulse to help people. I can't stop it. It's not normal. It's what got me here in the first place... It's why you shouldn't treat me like I matter. I'm broken... and I want to fix that… b-but I don’t know how…"

The dryad pressed her lips together. The hand on the skeleton's cheek was soft as it lifted his chin, gaining an unbreakable hold on his attention. His eyes were glossy, but no more tears fell.

_"Who do you think risked his life for complete strangers? Who do you think gave people more than one chance no matter what they could have done?"_

Dream averted his gaze. "I... T-that wasn't  _me_ –"

_"It was you. It_ is _you. It does not matter if you can do something to help or not; what matters is your will to do so. And yes, I might have believed this unstoppable urge to help others is dangerous, for you and for those around you, but it is the reason you are who you decided to be, and it is the reason half of these people owe you their lives._   _You have done so much good for everyone, because you_ wanted _to. You have changed many lives for the better. You made me realize many things. There may be countless ways to describe you, but worthless will never be one of them."_

Dream seemed about to say something, but eventually decided not to. He leaned into the hand that moved back to his cheek in desperate search for comfort, for the exit to that dark labyrinth he had strayed in, and clenched his eyes shut. He wanted to understand other points of view, but he was unable to see past his own, and not even he comprehended how his mind had become so negative and closed off and why he had questioned his reality with enough strength to make him break down.

Was it Nightmare's doing? Was negativity going off the rails again despite the Tree of Feelings itself being intact? He didn't know, but that was the way it was for him.

He had to set his goals straight; he was aware that he couldn't possibly protect everyone at once, but he had promised his brother many things, and fulfilled none of them. He should have done more and he did not.

He couldn't even make himself believe he was going to get Nightmare back, but he sure was going to try. That was the only thing he was not confused about.

His mother shared his silence for a while, and he appreciated that; sometimes, the lack of words said the most. He still needed some time to calm down. He hadn't expected all the sadness he had accumulated to burst out like that, though he should have seen it coming. He had been mentally abusing himself since he'd lost his brother for the second time in his life like it was a subconscious act, and he hadn't realized just how heavy those thoughts were until they forced him to show an outward reaction.

The night was suddenly too dark, too cold.

_"Dream, you know I am always here for you. Whatever it is you want me to do, I will do it for you."_

Dream curled further into himself, the growing cold gnawing at his sensitive bones. "I don't know what else to do... I can't keep pretending anymore... All this time I've been acting like everything was f-fine, but I...  _I'm_  not..."

There was a hardly noticeable nod of understanding from the dryad.  _"I know."_

Dream had expected any answer except for that one, and looked up at his mother with wide puzzled eyes. "Wh– Really?"

_"Yes. I have always known."_

"Oh..." Dream brought his gaze back to the ground, where it decided to linger once again almost in shame. "Was it...  _that_  noticeable?"

_"For a few people, yes."_

There was silence again. For several seconds, all that could be heard were the leaves and grass dancing with the soft breeze that was becoming too cold for comfort. Everyone had gone away at that point; few risked staying anywhere open at night, especially with the potential threat of Nightmare on the loose. Dream felt like only he and his mother existed in that world. It felt fine. All he needed was his brother right by his side, like they used to sleep when they were together just a few days ago; huddled in irreplaceable warmth without concerns for a change.

"I just want things to be like they were before... Like when we were born... When I had nothing to worry about, and when Nightmare was confident, and when people were still... tolerant. But with you." Dream had nary time to suppress one last hiccup. "I thought I would finally get that back, but... no. I've just realized that was the only time I'd been... actually happy."

Dream let his train of thought slow down for a brief moment.

"...I was sure I could get that back. I guess not."

_"It was not your fault, Dream. You tried. You cannot do everything."_

"But I should have tried harder."

Yet another pause casted silence.

"...can you promise me something, mother?"

Dream's voice was barely audible, filled with a doubt that was held by thin strings of hope. His eyes no longer radiated such overwhelming sadness, instead regaining that glint, that window to his damaged but lingering faith, but it was weak.

It was only for a small moment, but Nim couldn't help being afraid of what Dream could've wanted. It was a very difficult and harsh time for everyone, especially for them, and she couldn't do miracles nor let Dream do something dangerous without contemplations.

But for him, she would cross limits.

_"Of course."_

Dream hesitated before he could bring himself to carry on.

"...even if it's dangerous, can we at least...  _try_  to help Nightmare? Even if we don't succeed. Just... just  _once_ , at least.  _Please_."

It was Nim's turn to hesitate. It was what she feared. She didn't know if that was possible. It certainly would not be a safe procedure. But if there was something that could be done, even if it was only a mere attempt, she would do it. She would not allow Quetzalcoatl to get away with whatever he wanted; that was not how the game was played. Dream deserved better than that.

She wanted Nightmare back as much as his brother did, after all. She could still hear him, she could always hear him, the last she heard of him before he...

_'You knew!'_

_'Why didn't you do anything?!'_

_'I hate you!'_

**_'I hate you!'_ **

It was hard to hide the pain that surged through her, the pain of the shards from a broken heart, but there actually was nothing to hide.

_"...we will, Dream. I promise."_

It was the last thing Dream needed to finally calm down as much as his mind, ridden with a storm of uncertainty, allowed him to, suddenly becoming blank and empty, comfortable.

_"And I want you to promise me something in return."_

His eyes were almost closing in search for some true rest after almost an entire day of nothing but pessimistic notions, but he didn't complain when he looked up. He was further pulled into the warm embrace, and the night's freezing air could no longer get to him.

_"Promise me you will never believe you are useless or an annoyance. You are so much more than that, you just might not know it yet. No one does; it is entirely up to you to decide who you want to be. And despite everything… I see irreplaceable greatness within you."_

Dream wanted to, but he was unable to fully believe he was not useless at all. He would not have had such a harsh reaction to the unmasked truth had he been one more drop of water in the ocean, but he was not, he was not supposed to be one more, his sole purpose was to keep everything in check and to protect. To protect himself, to protect the Tree, to protect those close to his heart and those who were innocent, to ensure people's safety. It was what he had believed his whole life, no matter how many calamities he had faced and how many times he had failed or not done enough.

…but he knew he was destroying himself by thinking like that. By believing he was worthless. Nim was right. Maybe he didn't know all about himself yet. Maybe he still held secrets, maybe he did have the strength of a real guardian and had not yet been given motives to unleash it. Something similar had already happened to him once, all those years ago, when Nightmare had caught him and condemned him to life in a desolate cell. He could still remember what it had felt like when something in him had snapped, giving him strong hopes, more powers,  _transforming_ him. It might have been the apple's doing, it might have been his own core, he didn't know.

There was still room to figure it out.

His nerves eased as suddenly as they had sparked and caused his mind to break, and he couldn't hide a sigh of relief as he began to rationalize and get rid of the blur that clouded his addled point of view. They could still have a chance to help Nightmare, and he could still have a chance to help himself.

He couldn't give up. He had gone through so much and he wasn't quite at the finish line yet, but he couldn't give up. He couldn't just throw everything down the drain. He still had to find out who he _needed_ to be. He had travelled too far to stop halfway there.

"…I won't." he stated firmly. It was easy for Nim to notice his change of demeanor; he was still shaken and sorrowed, but he was doing his best to pull through, and she showed a frail smile at his undying resolution. Sometimes, it was a hazard, but some other times… he truly did need it. She still held on to the hope that he would, eventually, find his own power without the need of a soul. She would be there to help him throughout. It was the only way she would make herself feel less guilty about it.

_"We will figure out what to do, when the time is right. The one thing we must never do from now on is lose hope…"_  She planted a soft kiss on the skeleton's forehead.  _"...as difficult as that might be."_

Dream was not yet ready to see a brighter reality with vivid strength, but he'd been in need of guidance, he'd obtained it, and he didn't want anything else until the sun would rise again. He forced anything pessimistic away from him.

"...thank you."

The words were faint, but they were meaningful, and Nim almost didn't know why. The truth hadn't changed the way Dream saw her, and she did not feel like she deserved that kindness, she didn't deserve him, but he needed her, and she would be there to aid him in the long road he had ahead of him.

So they stayed together, each other's company a barrier that prevented the coldness of tragedy from reaching them, for what felt like gleeful hours. It was only a few seconds before Dream subconsciously opened his eyes and had a brief, absentminded look at his surroundings, but that was when the embrace had to end.

Nim heard him heave a quiet gasp and tense up, and her alarms blared without a second to waste as she looked up at where Dream had fixed his aghast eyes, soon mimicking his expression.

**_"How sad. That truly wrenched my heart. I think I'm going to cry."_ **

Nightmare ambled around them like his presence was nothing to worry about, smirking at the bemused duo, his lone eye staring them down with indescribable malice. Where he had come from and how long he had been there, none of the two had the most remote of ideas.

Dream slowly stepped away from his mother as she rose from the ground, his eyes never leaving the one that promised chaos. He could barely see Nightmare in the darkness, the light of the apples not able to reach where he was; Nim, however, could see him just fine through the dark veil he was camouflaged against, her vision much more adjusted to the night's lack of light than Dream's would ever be.

None of them said anything. Nightmare's pace was slow as could be as he watched them with the precision of a patient falcon about to strike, and he tilted his head at the silence he had brought upon what once, not long ago, was his family.

**_"What? No hugs for me? I thought you missed me... How heartless."_ **

_"Stay with me,"_  Nim bade, stern, distraught, and Dream didn't dare make a single move. It would be so easy for him to lose sight of Nightmare, and he didn't want that to happen.

He was as afraid and agitated as he'd been moments before Nim managed to calm him down, and he loathed that feeling. Nightmare was not there to make friends, and he truly did not want him to do anything stupid. He knew Nim wouldn't have the heart to kill him, and if she was forced to in the end... she would never get that out if her mind, just like he could not forget his failures.

He wished those thoughts to no one.

The dryad watched the dark skeleton intently, as a mixture of grief and fear crashed in. So it was true, after all; the agglomeration of darkness that pretended to be Nightmare had taken over through impossible means, and it had worked. Seeing it with her own eyes was much more painful than she would have predicted it to be.

There was something strange in the air. Something strong, something that compressed the atmosphere until it became stifled. She didn't miss the faint creak of wood right beside her. The way Nightmare had been returned to the greedy hands of corruption could be a bigger problem than she could have envisioned for the Tree to be in distress like it was.

**_"Oh, come on, don't look at me like a stranger."_**  Nightmare stopped pacing, still away from the only source of light, hiding from Dream's sight.  ** _"Am I no longer allowed to spend time with my beloved family? Why is that?"_**

As terrible as it was to treat him, not as her creation, as someone who needed help, but as a hateful enemy, Nim ignored his mocking questions. She didn't doubt that Dream, too, knew that was  _not_  the time to be peaceful with his brother. It would have to be another day.  _"Why have you come here?"_

A small shrug.  ** _"It's something you shouldn't worry about too much. I'm not interested in that old weed if that's what you thought. Not like I need it, anyway."_**

Nim was not about to take him for granted. She stood her ground, Dream's gaze flickering between what little he could see of Nightmare and the apples. He did not like how tight his chest felt. The past was coming way too close for comfort, and if anything escalated, no blow would be gentle.

Even through the darkness, he could see that lone eye piercing into him. He could see with clarity that Nightmare was not focused on Nim, or on the Tree; he was his sole target, and the realization made him take a step back.

**_"No… we came for something much less important than that."_ **

It was the word 'we', emphasized, that raided the guardian with chills.

"Well, it  _is_  important to her."

Both dryad and skeleton turned around. More visible than Nightmare was within the darkness, Kamea paced just a little closer to them; again, wielding the dagger in his hand, away from their sight.

"Makes it more fun, don't you think?"

Nim gave him a glower full of hatred before she turned to the sound of Nightmare's snicker. Tension growing, Dream decided to keep watching Kamea whilst his mother kept her attention on Nightmare, but he couldn’t stop the panic from creeping in. It was not even his brother causing it; it was unadulterated fright.

It became worse when he didn't fail to see the fear in the guardian’s eyes the brief moment they made contact with his as she turned to observe Nightmare. She could face Kamea alone, she could face Nightmare alone, but the two of them, at the same time... It was not a threat she had ever faced.

**_"Sure it does. If they are stubborn enough, anyway..."_ **

Nim couldn't keep her sight away from Kamea for too long, but she prioritized Nightmare; meanwhile, Dream couldn't possibly feel more impotent as he just stood there, drowning in his jumbled ideas. He wished he could do something, _anything_ , but he could not. As if they had a mind of their own, his eyes kept looking at the golden apples, but he tore them away.

He was _not_ going to do that again. He would put himself in danger, he would make himself a bigger target. If he was to find strength, he would find it on his own, not with a heavy, artificial soul. The only thing that would convince him to even touch those fruits was his mother’s request to do so, and she would never consider it a safe solution either.

...but if Nightmare and Kamea had bad intentions, which was not to be doubted, Nim and the Tree could be in much more serious trouble than he would be if he was caught. Both of them could harm her like the power she carried didn’t matter, and it would not be easy for her to face them at once, on her own. Without help, it would be a tough battle that she risked losing.

He didn't want to lose her. He didn't want people to suffer. He would rather take her place if anything deadly was to happen.

**_"Which is why I do hope you don't plan on being stubborn."_**  Nightmare spoke with a menacing whisper, ambling through the darkness without approaching more than he should.  ** _"We would not want any blood spilled."_**

His threat was answered to with a dubious scowl from Nim, a staggered look from Dream, and a distant rattle that sounded everywhere and nowhere at once.

Everything took a turn.

It was the last thing they needed, but it was there; Quetzalcoatl was roaming somewhere within the darkness of the night, and neither Nim nor Dream knew where, much to their dismay. Nightmare and Kamea were still looking at the, giving no clue as to where the third menace could be.

"Oh, my  _icniuhtzin_ , she knows better than that."

It wasn't until he spoke that they realized he was several feet away from them, behind and between the other two, his eyes glowing in the dark, the patches of scales shrouded by their own, faint bioluminescence. What little they could see of him made him appear more ominous than he already was.

His presence stopped the Nightmare and Kamea’s approach, but that did not make the situation any less tense; it only worsened everything. If those two already posed a serious threat, the other guardian was the rotten icing on the cake. Nim could have still had a chance against them, but with Quetzalcoatl there, winning was holding hands with the impossible.

Dream's mind was racing once again at that point, and he didn't know what to do and what not to do nor tell the difference between what was right or wrong, between what was safe and insane. The fear on his mother's traits was unmistakable, and it spread to him.

That was not a fight they could win without risks too heavy to take, even if he would’ve had means to fend for himself. There had to be another way. He truly hoped they _meant_ they didn't want stubbornness.

The cold eyes of Quetzalcoatl glared daggers into the other guardian as he stepped closer to them. Not too close, but enough to send Nim into a defensive stance. With one heartless being on every side, they were surrounded by nothing but danger. "Because you do know better than that... don't you?"

The other two paced closer to him, a frightening alliance that could and should send the entire multiverse running.

_"What is the meaning of this?"_  Nim demanded, ignoring Quetzalcoatl's rhetorical question. There were equal amounts of anger and fear in her voice and Dream didn't know what they were going to do. There was little to no use in hiding her distress; both guardians knew the situation could divert from her favor in a matter of seconds, but that did not mean she would let them get away with whatever they wanted.

"Temper, temper..." the other guardian drawled, smirking. "I thought your precious son here had told you. There is no need for trouble. We are not looking for anything you  _should_  care about."

Nim was quick to see who his eyes had wandered over to, and realization struck hard. She knew she would not be able to protect Dream. Not on her own. Not against  _them_.

"We are looking for something more insignificant, smaller... Something that slows you down..."

Dream knew they were all observing him like the prey he was, and he felt small. His mind would not agree on anything. Should he run? Should he stay? Should he try to defend himself somehow? Should he... eat the apples just to prevent a bigger tragedy?

...should he give up and give them what they wanted?

"Listen, Nim... there is no need for this to end in tragedy. All we want is the little skeleton to come with us. Hand him over."

His mother was suddenly in front of him. Each second that ticked by, his chest felt tighter. _"Leave him out of this."_  she growled, and even Dream felt intimidated.  _"Whatever you want to do, you will_ not _use him for it."_

She had already lost one. She would not lose the other. Not like that.

The night's unrelenting breeze bit with icy fangs, and the almost delighted chuckle Quetzalcoatl gave in response to the protective threat made it feel much colder. "Now, now... We do  _not_  want to have a problem, do we?"

A voice that was usually calm and patient lowered itself into a menacing sough that counted down the seconds left for a disaster to strike.

"Because I doubt you want to risk your life, or the Tree's safety. It would be a very imprudent thing to do."

Nim tensed, always mindful of the human and skeleton that had anything but good intentions. They had no rush waiting for Quetzalcoatl's orders; she could only wonder what he could have done to gain Nightmare's loyalty, or at least what could have given him a reason to stay by their side. She dreaded the consequences of it.

The hostile stance of the feathered guardian disappeared as soon as it had showed. "As I said, there is no need for this to end in tragedy. We can end this two ways... One, you make the right decision and let us... borrow the pesky little bug for some time, with the solemn promise of not killing him."

Dream looked up at his mother, but she didn't seem to be relenting. She did, however, look worryingly dubious, and he was starting to realize that the tightness of his chest was the way of telling himself that the choice depended on him. He knew what was bound to happen, and what had to be done...

"Or, you can stick with that stubborn, soft shtick you've adopted, and force us to be more hostile than needed."

One single eye of turquoise and two of blue and green watched them intently as the scaled tail rattled.

"Both you and Lanny are in my way. I will have to dispose of you one of these days. I would not mind if it had to be today..."

Out of her realization, Dream had plunged into his mind in order to form an agreement with it instead of arguing with it whilst Nim observed the imminent menace with no set plans on how to deal with it. She would not stand a chance against the three of them, but she couldn't just let them take Dream away. She couldn't take Quetzalcoatl's promise for granted, and they would surely hurt him. She could not allow that.

But in order to prevent it, she could die. It was too much of a risk to take.

But she could  _not_  allow it—

"Fine."

She was taken aback when Dream stepped up, right beside her, his eyes narrowed and brimming with resolve. All it took was one small look and she knew she was thinking the same way he was. It took less than a second for Nim to realize he was giving himself up.

_"Dream, what are you–"_

"It's not worth it, mother."

He turned to look at her with that pleading expression that wrenched her heart, and no more words dared leave her. He knew that she would never admit it, so he would let it out instead. That was the choice he had made. The only thing he truly believed.

"...I'm not worth it."

Hands clenched into fists, he took a deep breath, steeling himself before continuing. He was not prepared for what was about to happen, but he didn't feel like he was doing the wrong thing again; he felt like he was taking his first few steps down the right path, and it filled him with resolve he didn't know he'd have for a situation as tense as that.

"It's... it's better this way. I know you think that too. There's no point in dying for me. All these people need you, not me. All I can do here is put others in danger. If they want me... then they'll have what they came looking for. As long as everyone is safe... Safer than they could ever be with me here."

Only silence was shared between mother and son, and it shattered Dream's nonexistent heart, but he couldn't possibly complain. He had shattered his mother's the moment he agreed with the thoughts she didn't want to come true.

He forced a brittle smile. "You're right. I'm not useless. I don't feel useless. But I am  _here_. There is no point in protecting me if all I do here is bring trouble. I need to be useful somewhere else."

He managed to ignore the cold breeze, too intent on upholding his final decision. More silence was shared, and he placed no blame on it. Nim opened her mouth to speak, but it was as if her voice had left her, and she pursed her lips instead. The deadly alliance was nonexistent to them.

He was right, but she would never admit it out loud. If she managed to save Dream somehow, then Quetzalcoatl would keep trying until he was ripped from her. And if she did not manage to save him, she could die, and he could die too. It was a heartless stalemate, and there was only one way out of it. One that hurt, one that clawed at their souls with grief... but one that ultimately was their only option to prevent something truly dismaying.

"Oh, how heartwarming."

Dream narrowed his eyes with a hatred Nim had never seen before in him as Quetzalcoatl's mockery destroyed the silent communication between them. The skeleton did not deign himself to even give him a side-glance.

"Seems like he does have the wits, after all. Just in time to be the wise one when his creator has lost that faculty."

None of the two gave him any kind of reply, deeming him undeserving of their attention. Dream took his mother's lack of words as a sign of acceptance, and he took a step back, fighting an enraged ocean of tears with unexpected success as soon as he did so. The thought hit him hard: what was he doing?

But the answer was clear to him.

Ignoring the other guardian behind him, he tried hard to maintain that frail, trembling smile. "It's okay. Really. This isn't over. I'm not giving up. We'll... we'll fix this, mother. But we can't do it together. Yet."

Trying not to think too much on the action, he kept taking small steps away from Nim, and she watched him with no attempt to stop him. The distance he put between them made him feel empty. He couldn’t stand it. But he had to endure it.

"I'll... I'll be fine..." he managed, and barely realized he couldn't muster more than a whisper.

He didn't want to leave. He would have never wanted things to end that way. There were so many things to discover, so many things to fix, so many things to talk about. He wanted to stay there and figure out the life he had never understood with the support of his creator and all the people he had ever known, but that was not the choice he should make. With those three after him, he was a bad omen.

But he meant it. He was not giving up. He was only stopping an unnecessary death.

In the blink of an eye, his hands were behind his back, tied by a brute melting tendril that belonged to the dark skeleton he hadn't quite realized had been behind him. He wasn’t sure how he had been able to suppress a gasp.

**_"Of course you will."_**  Nightmare growled, assuring he wouldn't go anywhere. Dream flinched at the uncompassionate grip but kept his gaze narrowed, and didn't try to struggle at all despite all his instincts begging him to. It was only due to his lack of protection against that repulsive aura; he saw it wise to stop listening to his mind while Nightmare was that close to him.

Quetzalcoatl grinned at the lack of resistance, and turned to look at the other guardian. "See?" he chimed, content. "That was all. Not so difficult in the end."

Nim didn't humor his words, and fought her will to get Dream away from the creature that would surely throw his life down the drain once more.

Quetzalcoatl and even Nightmare seemed satisfied with the results of the encounter, an antithesis to Kamea. He scowled, sheathing the dagger unceremoniously. "Pity."

Ignoring him too, Dream and Nim kept their gazes locked on each other. The dryad could do nothing but wish to see hesitation in the skeleton's traits, but Dream had chosen something he could not back away from, and when he gave her a slow, calm nod, all was said and done. He did not regret what he was doing. It hurt, but it wouldn’t hurt more than what could have happened.

Quetzalcoatl walked in front of him, and Dream watched him without any sympathy. He didn’t deserve it yet. "Thank you for your cooperation, little _conetl_. I’m certain your mother appreciates that courage." He then looked back at the dryad. "We shall be leaving now."

Nim narrowed her eyes.  _"I want to give you a chance, Quetzal. But if you hurt him, I swear you will remember this day."_

Quetzalcoatl ignored her threat the same way she ignored his lack of mercy. "Whether he is hurt or not does not depend on me, Nim. I, personally, would hate to see him in any pain, but if he decides to be bold..." His meticulous gaze slowly panned over to the skeleton again. Dream remained firm. "...well."

He knew what was going to happen to him if he went with them. He could feel Nightmare grinning behind him, and he wondered how much he was wishing to tear him apart. But he would not give up. He couldn't. He was not leaving to join them, but to stop them.

He just tried to focus on the chances he would have to make an attempt at reaching his brother and unveiling the mysteries surrounding Quetzalcoatl and Kamea without the dark aura around him turning those thoughts grim.

"Anywho, let's not stall any longer. I am certain these two siblings are aching to have a talk."

Nightmare agreed with the idea as vividly as Dream dreaded it, but the latter didn't show that. He wouldn't give them anything they wanted aside from his freedom. They wanted him afraid? He wouldn't be. They wanted him loyal? He wouldn't be. And he was well aware of the risks. But people's lives were far more important than his own, and if he gave up, their chances would continue diminishing.

Remaining passive, Kamea took the small, known capsule from his belt, awaiting direct or indirect orders to go from the guardian.

They were seconds away from leaving and possibly not returning in a long time, and Nim was still fighting the urge to take Dream away from them, but what was done was done. It was his choice. There wasn't much she could do.

" _Totazque_ , my dear nymph..."

The capsule was thrown to the ground. The lilac smoke surrounded them all and Nim could've sworn she spotted small tears welling in Dream's eyes the moment he was torn from her sight, as he realized that he would never be able to go back in time and it would be a very long time until they would see each other again.

The silence tried to take over the sound of the grass and leaves shaken by the breeze, and it succeed. Nim heard nothing, nothing but the afflicted beating of her broken heart.

She had never felt so alone in a world so cold.

It was crazy to think about how fast one could lose something, no matter how close it was, until they actually did. Her only company was her guilt, her doubts, the realization. It was too hurtful to look around her and remember that first they were all together, then there only was one, then there were none.

She did nothing to stop the single tear making its way down her cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ready your dictionaries, everyone
> 
> *icniuhtzin: friend, but with the -tzin suffix, which is added when referring to something with respect or admiration <\-- this is important. ;o
> 
> and in case anyone forgot:
> 
> *conetl: child  
> *totazque: see you later


	22. Gaze Into a Cold Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't sure if he was surprised by his stupidity or because of his boldness, but he couldn't care less. Until it was proven to him that his brother was not there, Dream would not let anyone hurt Nightmare. And he couldn't care less if Quetzalcoatl was not actually going to hurt him, either. He would not take any chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof i don't have time to proof-read this one. sorry if you find any typos or anything(¿

It was dark, cold and damp. It left a strong feeling of dread coursing through his bones, mixing with his grief and sorrow. It felt like the time he had strayed off to go looking for his brother. He had not yet found him; that  _thing_ next to him sure was not. Not yet.

His efforts to stop it had been in vain; all Dream could think of was that he could be free and relatively safe with his mother and everyone else, figuring things out at their own pace and fixing all they had done wrong together. The thought was painful, clamping down hard on his mind and never letting go, because no, he was instead on his own, being walked through the halls of a claustrophobic cave illuminated by torches and very few crystals every once in a while, becoming less common the deeper they strayed into it, his hands tied behind him by a tendril that was adding a little too much pressure for how compliant he was being.

The hateful creature of darkness right by his side was watching his every move in silence, in hopes he would try to escape just to have a reason to hurt him. Dream was not planning to, but even if he tried to escape, all efforts would be in vain. There was no way to back down from what he had chosen, and he was split between regret and resolution.

His heart ached, and yet he could not see what he had done as a _wrong_ choice no matter how tumultuous it was to ponder about it. He might be on his way to hell, he might not, but he felt like he had done something right for the first time in countless years and that alone was worth it to him, for the time being. He could have gotten Nim killed and left the Tree unprotected, and changed things for the worst by not surrendering when he did; his freedom in exchange for their safety was fair.

His hopes to find out what Quetzalcoatl wanted from him had been shattered, though, and he was not happy with that. He and Kamea had gone off somewhere as soon as they got to Waterfall, and left him alone with Nightmare of all people, not before telling the melting skeleton things he hadn’t paid attention to from his realm of thought. He could imagine why they chose Nightmare to take care of him.

He was not leaving unscathed, that much he understood, but he was there to fix everything he could, and seeing if his brother was still somewhere in there was one of those things he wanted to fix. He knew he shouldn't believe he could do that after everything that had happened between them years ago, but... how could he help it? Perhaps he had no saying in what would and would not happen to him, but he was not going to let Nightmare spend the rest of his life puppeteered by darkness without at least trying, and if he had to die for that, in the end, so be it.

Either they died together or they did not die at all. It was a mindset Dream had stuck with since the possibility of reuniting with his brother had shown itself to him, just a mere couple of weeks ago. Nobody knew where those who died there would go, if anywhere at all, but Dream had decided he was not dying without Nightmare, and Nightmare was not dying without him – if such event was to happen, some day. It no longer seemed like a distant chance, and he had enough reasons to believe he would be first in line.

But whatever the outcome, wherever it was they would go, they would go together, and he would not be kidding if he said he would do something stupid to follow his brother if something happened to him first. He just hoped they would not need to die at all.

Leaving that aside for a while, though, Dream allowed his mind, calmer despite the previous events and the closeness to the negative aura, to talk to him as he continued to walk along Nightmare, wherever he was taking him. He needed to disconnect for a moment. Plan things out.

It was almost relaxing to listen to his mind as long as it stayed coherent and peaceful. It didn't let him think about where he was and what could happen to him, and he wanted to allow that. Moments ago it was making his entire body rattle with trepidation, the next it was being helpful and soothing him when he needed it most, like an aching wound that had been healed. Perhaps that was what contentment felt like. He hadn't felt like he had actually  _accomplished_  something in so long… It was nice, for a change.

At least, it was nice until they seemingly reached their destination, and his train of thought came to a halt alongside his alleged brother when Nightmare tugged on his bound wrists, forcing him to stop dead on his tracks with nothing but a small wince. They had stopped by a large indentation in the rock wall, barren aside from two torches, one on either side, and some small stalactites hanging ominous from the roof, bits of stone detached from them scattered all across the rocky floor.

He was about to question why he would be brought there when Nightmare, gently as ever, hurled him into the hollow. Dream didn't manage to catch his footing and had to undergo a rough fall on his side against the chipped ground, the broken off pieces of rock digging into his ribs. The darker skeleton stepped closer, but not too close as he pushed himself to his knees on high alert.

**_"You try anything, I'll annihilate you right here. Understand?"_ **

Dream looked up at his brother. He felt chills piercing every part of his body, but he did not show that. He did not show any reaction Nightmare might have been looking for, for that matter. He didn't show pain, or fear, or worry, even though he did feel all of them; he only gave him a defiant look of narrowed eyes, masking his inner conflict. "Wasn't going to."

Nightmare was still unimpressed by him, but he seemed amused at the same time. Gelid as it was, Dream never took his eyes off his brother's as he approached just a little more, standing up without making any sudden moves and holding his ground. The eldest was still waiting for Dream to make a run for it while he still could, but he did not.

Nightmare reviewed his options then.

He had been told to create a cell for him and leave him there, give in and share a few words if he felt talkative, and then come back out of the cave where the friendly duo would be waiting for him. But that was not to his liking. He was bored. He was starting to lack vital strength. He needed negativity to feed on; the entire world around him was still too cheerful and carefree. For whatever reason, neither Quetzalcoatl nor Kamea emanated any feelings he would appreciate, either, and he was not being let out of Waterfall on his own schedule. He needed someone to torment, and Dream happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It did not look like the caped skeleton was going to stand there and take it, though.

"Well?" Dream almost deadpanned, facing him without hesitation. "I bet you're really happy now. You finally have someone to hurt. What's it gonna be this time? Try to break me again? Kill everyone I know?"

Nightmare eyed him thoroughly, not having expected the veil of courage Dream was hiding behind, but it was frail, he could tell. He could feel the fear radiating from him, fighting against the perseverance that pulled it back. Dream thinking he had a chance could make things more interesting, but he was not planning to hold back if he got on his nerves.

The darker skeleton behaved in a tranquil manner, masking any ill intent, an unreadable, vague smirk drawn on his face, but Dream had no reasons to let his guard down even if he had an idea of what was coming.  ** _"Perhaps."_** Nightmare said calmly.  ** _"It depends on you. If you quit being so obstinate, I might not have to hurt you or your friends at all. If you don't… then you won't make me want to be nice."_**

Dream hated how unfazed and calculating Nightmare always sounded; it was a trait than never left that repulsive form. He never forgot and never would forget that ominous tone, the calm before the storm. He was afraid of what could happen, but he had accepted the consequences. There was a chance they didn't want him dead, so he would take all the pain necessary to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

Nightmare took note of his constant glower, tilting his head slightly.  ** _"You look angry, brother. Is that because I almost killed you earlier?"_** No response from the other skeleton. Nightmare snickered. ** _"Sorry about that. Not the greatest of starts, huh?"_** Still no response, nothing but an unceasing glare from narrowed, untrusting eyes.  ** _"Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to just kill you now. We happen to need you. But I certainly will, if you provoke me."_**

"Need me for  _what_?"

Dream spoke slowly, with clear anger, with a clear need to understand what was happening. Nightmare was not expecting the façade to hang on like it was, but he found it fun. It would not last much longer than that. It shouldn't.

**_"All we want from you is for you to obey us. Simple as that. No need for fights, no need for you or anyone to get hurt... The only thing you have to do is give up. Seems fair, doesn't it?"_ **

Dream scowled. "Keep dreaming."

There was no immediate reaction from Nightmare in response to his audacity. He stayed motionless, just watching him, and Dream was already steeling himself for the outcome of his nonchalance in the face of danger. He was not there to give up and become a minion, and he would make it clear, no matter what he had to go through.

The melting skeleton heaved a small sigh, grin widening just a tad more. He took small steps toward Dream, circling him. The golden gaze followed him like metal followed a magnet.  ** _"I see the kind of game you're playing at. And it's not going to work._** "

He made a straight though sluggish approach toward his brother when the rock wall did not let him continue circling him. Dream stepped back, but he still did not try to run even if Nightmare was not blocking his escape route. There was no point. Not only would he be caught in an instant either way, there simply was nothing for him to do out there. He was a ticking bomb, attracting nothing but bad. The only way he could be useful was by staying down there until he found out what kind of plan was being schemed.

**_"Do you think I don't know just how terrified you are? What good would hiding it do?"_ **

Dream was soon cornered. It was becoming more and more difficult not to overtly show the fear that was consuming him, even if Nightmare could feel it, but he would not give him what he wanted from him. He still had some fight left in him, even if he had no weapons. He had his strength of will, his desire to do good without causing damage, and it was more powerful than ever despite everything.

"I'm not afraid of you." he stated. His voice didn't waver or hesitate at all.

The darker skeleton stopped advancing, shaking his head.  ** _"Smarten up, Dream. You've been through so much. It would be horrible to make me hurt you again_**.  ** _Just give up for once, and no harm will come to you."_**

His tentacles waved behind him, ready to stop Dream in case he still had the idea to try and escape when he was least expecting it. But he was not relenting, and even if he was trapped and defenseless, he refused to surrender.

"Do whatever you want." he defied, mustering all the courage he had to coat his words in honesty. "You can torture me, you can try to break me, but I will  _never_  give in to you!"

Nightmare grabbed him by the collar in a fleeting instant, slamming him against the wall. One of the wavering tendrils swatted him across the face, hard. His head whipped to the side, the sound reverberating all throughout the cave. Dream was left stunned for a few seconds.

 ** _"I think you forgot who you're talking to, pipsqueak."_**  Nightmare hissed, glaring daggers into his brother. Dream looked back up at him after a few, unsteady blinks. He had not yet lost his defiance.  ** _"That is not the way to speak to your brother."_**

Most people would have kept their mouth shut if they were in his situation, but Dream was not about to take the mockery; the crooked smile Nightmare bore among the scowl made his non-existent blood boil. "I know  _exactly_  who I'm talking to." the smaller skeleton hissed back. " _You_ 're not my brother."

The hateful emphasis only earned him another hit across the other cheek.

 ** _"I was told not to touch you until much later on."_** Nightmare growled, almost to himself. He pressed Dream harder against the wall, but the skeleton didn't let out any sound that betrayed his pain.  ** _"But you are making it_ very _difficult."_** He leaned closer, but Dream never looked away.  ** _"I know what you fear the most, Dream. I know what does and does not hurt you. I know what you care about and what you don't. I'm going to give you one last chance to reconsider your choices, because I really am not going to hold back this time."_**

"When was the last time you ever held back?" Dream asked, his voice quieter but his mettle never dying. Nightmare did not want him to give up that easily, he knew. He wouldn’t care if he surrendered or if he did not, he just wanted to see him in pain, to see his mind break, but he would not allow that. He would not let him feed off his misery again. Not without a fight.

Nightmare paused at the retort for what felt like too long, a tense pause that Dream didn’t like one bit. The other’s scowl turned into a small smile after a second, a smile split between indignation and amusement. Dream had seen it enough times before to know the games were over, bracing and waiting for him to unleash his frustration on him.

**_"Insolent brat."_ **

Nightmare struck Dream again, twice as hard as before, with nearly enough strength to rip his head straight off his shoulders. That time, Dream had trouble hiding a yelp, but he managed to suppress it. Then he was struck again before he could recover.

**_"Every time I try to grant you mercy, you decide to be stubborn. You had a chance and you wasted it again."_ **

The melting appendage came in contact with his temple once more. Each new hit was harder than the last, and his head throbbed as it felt like an earthquake was rattling his mind. And yet he refused to show the pain. Nothing he did would make Nightmare stop, anyway.

**_"Why should I complain, though? More fun for me."_ **

The next hit, however, caused a crack to resonate around them, and Dream was nearly sure his skull had been shattered. It did felt like it, but the damage was much mellower than that, fortunately; his left cheek ended with a small, webbed gash, and Dream didn't find it easy to raise his head again. Through the corner of his eye, though, he saw Nightmare about to strike again, but he could only brace.

He also noticed a blue light behind him, a shadow lurking. He paid more attention to that than to Nightmare, and the melting skeleton hadn't realized what he was looking at.

Not until the hooked crystal of the staff reached in and embedded itself on his side.

Nightmare let out a cry of pain as the sharp crystal pierced through him like no other weapon he had ever been faced against could, dropping Dream and stumbling back as as Quetzalcoatl tore it off in one violent motion, black goo dripping from the wound like blood.

The pain was tight and blinding for the first couple of seconds, but it did not subside much more than that, and it was not on its way to. Unable to hold himself up, like every single drop of energy in him had been drained by what should have been nothing but a mere scratch, Nightmare fell to his knees grunting, clutching his slashed side. It hurt so much more than last time, not so much like a sharp stinging sensation but more like he had been plunged in a river of scalding lava while carrying a thousand fresh wounds.

He was not used to something like that. Never had he confronted such intense pain, and he felt so pathetic, kneeling in utter pain and unable to dismiss it while Quetzalcoatl stared down at him like he was mightier than he would ever be. Dream didn't bother standing up, stunned and shocked; he only watched, unknowing of what to do, unable to think properly.

 ** _"W-what... what the hell did you do..."_**  Nightmare groaned, mentally cursing and damning himself for sounding as helpless as he wanted his brother to be. He hadn’t even achieved that.

He growled and hunched over as the pain kept getting worse, soon spreading throughout his entire body but burning his side the most. He instinctually clenched his phalanges into the gash.

"Nothing you cannot handle." was Quetzalcoatl's vague answer, indifferent of and even pleased with the pain he had caused the other, and Nightmare found out he couldn't say much more than that no matter how desperately he wanted to. The searing pain was not letting him concentrate, and he winced every time the wound sent waves of agony through him, each worse than the other. "Perhaps I'm being too merciful. You have a good attention span. You should use it more often."

Nightmare turned his head to scowl at the guardian, but pain still lingered in his expression and he could barely move, let alone gather the sufficient strength to fight back, which he admitted was a bad idea. He forgot Dream even existed as he was belittled by the guardian's cold gaze, and as much as he hated himself for it, he could not help it: Quetzalcoatl instigated an amount of respect Nightmare would give to no one in the entire, vast world, even if he was right at death's door.

"I told you to leave him here and come back. I never said you could hurt him just yet. I thought I had left it clear before… our rules apply the same to you."

And the pain continued to increase for a few seconds every once in a while, and Nightmare grunted when it happened again. It was becoming hard to breathe, and through his struggle not to keel over he never saw the pitying look Dream was giving him, and let out a hoarse whisper,  ** _"You... you are not the boss of me,"_**

Quetzalcoatl stared him down with contempt, with disappointment. Dream's attention panned to him when he saw the hooked crystal on the staff glow, and tensed when it was pointed at Nightmare. "Such a shame. I believed you would have come around by now. Seems like you don't yet understand who you are playing with..."

"No!"

With no time to think twice, Dream stood up, ignoring the angry headache that tried to topple his balance, and put himself between Quetzalcoatl and Nightmare – pushing the staff away as he did so, and making the guardian take a step back in utter astonishment.

He wasn't sure if he was surprised by his stupidity or because of his boldness, but he couldn't care less. Until it was proven to him that his brother was _not_ there, Dream would not let anyone hurt Nightmare. And he couldn't care less if Quetzalcoatl was not actually going to hurt him, either. He would not take any chances.

“Leave him _out_ of this. If you want to hurt me then go ahead, do whatever you want! But you’re not going to touch him.”

The melting skeleton froze when he realized what was happening despite his gaze being planted on the ground. He no longer wanted to look up.

The pain he felt was replaced by shame, and it was an even worse feeling.

Dream was  _protecting_  him.

Like he was some  _helpless weakling_.

A shockwave of tension spread itself across the cave, and only Nightmare's heavy breathing was breaking the sepulchral silence that would have made Dream more distressed than he already was while facing the perplexed guardian. Quetzalcoatl stared at him for a moment that seemed to never end, as though he could read every racing thought he had, before regaining that small smile Dream realized he hated more than Nightmare's nonchalance seconds before he would turn his bones to dust.

"Truthfully, you  _are_ an interesting critter." he admitted, watching the skeleton like one watched a fine work of art, searching for every small detail with insatiable ambition to find its defects. "You hold as much potential as I'd foreseen."

The tail swished gently, the forked tongue flicked for a second; Dream felt so small under the guardian's gaze, smaller than he felt against Nightmare, but he would never bring himself to show that.

"You are simply... not using it well enough."

" _What_ potential?" Dream defied, not regretting it as the words came out of him with the scorn he wanted them to have. "What do you even want me for so desperately? Nightmare might, but I have nothing useful for you."

He almost shuddered at the fanged grin of unadulterated malice, but he was still determined to keep his composure.

"Of course you do." the guardian stated, sure of what he was saying. Dream wondered if he was going to try giving him as many apples as he had given Nightmare, but many reasons led him to think he had other plans in mind. He shouldn't know what kind of effects an overconsumption of golden apples could do to him, and may not want to risk it.

"You just cannot know." the guardian continued. "You are not ready yet."

Dream was not in the mood for riddles. There was always time for a more pacific approach – he hoped, – but he needed answers and he was not willing to wait any longer.

So his eyes narrowed further and he took a step forth, " _What_ do you _want_? What is the point of all of this?"

"Questions, questions, there are always questions."

He was almost cut off, and showed his contempt without visible regret.

"Patience is a virtue few have. You seem to be one of those gifted with this honor, unlike your brother, so use it as you should,  _conetl_." There was the smallest hint of disdain in the guardian’s words, masked by serenity. It was hard to tell if Quetzalcoatl did respect him, or if he did not, or if he was using sarcasm – the odd words Dream kept hearing from him were not helping the case. "Answers come only when they have to. They waste nobody's time. It is not yet time for them to enlighten you."

Dream was dissatisfied with the results of his questions, and he knew he was not getting any real answers soon. He was sure he would have a lot of time to continue trying, though... It did not look like he was getting out of there the easy way.

To say the least, though, he was at a loss of words. He didn't know how else he was supposed to react, so he kept himself as a barrier with nothing more to say. He would not move from there until Quetzalcoatl was gone. Or until Nightmare decided to show his gratitude. He knew it wouldn't be pretty. But he was not waiting for him to thank him.

"Look at what that love and care of yours makes you do." Changing the subject, Quetzalcoatl reached out with the scepter without intentions that signified clear harm; the tip of the hooked crystal, sharper than any knife, rested under Dream's chin. He gave a slight flinch at its cold touch and his breath hitched, but made no further movement than a narrow of his eyes when it tipped his head up. "You would risk your life for the very being who wishes nothing but to tear you apart."

Dream was hiding many of his emotions, but he felt the anger bubbling inside him, and he did not want to hide that. It was out of his control. "That being," he started, his words slow, a darker tone that even he was startled by inwardly, "is the brother you took from me."

And again, Quetzalcoatl smiled at his anguished and irate response. He was not at all threatened or fazed by the skeleton – not like Dream expected to ever threaten anyone. Not as he currently was.

"You will stop caring about him." the guardian stated, the glowing crystal trailing toward the small crack in the skeleton's temple. He was wary of it, but chose not to make any sudden moves unless he had to. "I'm doing you a favor. You need to get rid of these impulses to help and care about others. They will only weigh you down. You want to matter? Let go of this mindset of yours or you will never be more than a stupid child."

A small flicker, a barely noticeable sting, and the crack was gone, though the ache remained. Dream knew it was not the time to express gratitude, but he was indeed confused.

"Whatever you're trying to do, it won't work."

His words sounded emptier than before. Dream hated that. It was all he could manage.

Retreating the staff, the hateful eyes of the guardian looked at him carefully, before he stepped away from him. "They all say that. In the end, their words are never honest."

Quetzalcoatl paced away from them, though he stopped next to Nightmare, not facing him. Dream was surprised to see he hadn't recovered at all yet, still clutching his slashed side and panting. Never had he seen him so defeated; even his aura seemed weaker, less inclined to spread negativity of all kinds.

"Just because you are not used to being the one below, I will give you the benefit of the doubt." Quetzalcoatl said with poisonous calmness. "I don't ever want you to disobey again, because next time, I will not be as forgiving. And it would be a pity, having to break such a powerful weapon."

Nightmare brought himself to raise his gaze. He was not there to be some sentient weapon... but the things he could do to regain part of the dignity he'd lost the moment he had joined the psychopathic duo were little to none, and he had not yet learnt to control the powers he'd once had. He didn't want to just pick a fight against someone as powerful as Quetzalcoatl. He would be ridiculed. He would have to wait.

The guardian had promised to make him more powerful. Nightmare hoped he was treated with actual respect, like an equal, by the time that happened, or some blood might be spilled. As long as he was seen as a tool, though, Nightmare would treat the guardian with disdain; enough to let his discontentment be clear, but not enough to ask for serious trouble.

So, in response to the masked threat, the melting skeleton only gritted his teeth.

"I will be waiting for you outside. You need to do one last thing for me, and I just might deem you worthy of training if you do so without succumbing to your need for others’ suffering. Don't keep me waiting. Getting used to pain is merely part of said training."

And with no more words needed, the guardian left, the clatter of the rattlesnake tail echoing through the endless rock walls and fading off into silence. Quetzalcoatl did not take the tension away with him.

Dream let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and gave Nightmare a faint side-glance, half expecting him to lunge at him and obliterate him for protecting him against the one thing he was nearly powerless against. He would feel so complete if the dark skeleton slouched behind him actually did thank him, if he looked into that cruel lone eye and instead saw the mellow gaze of his brother, but that was not going to happen, and he accepted it.

He did.

He... did.

While Dream stood there, out of ideas, Nightmare knelt motionless, waiting until the awful pain began to subside in order to muster the strength to stand up. It took its time, however. Perhaps it would take longer than Quetzalcoatl was willing to wait for him.

To hell with it.

The smaller skeleton directed him a wary look when he struggled to his feet, taking one sudden step forth when he felt he would collapse and leaning against the wall with one hand, the other covering the gash that tried in vain to heal itself. It was so demeaning to barely be able to _stand_ in front of Dream of all people. He had never felt such an intense hatred toward him.

He couldn't wait until he was given green light to proceed and break his mind, and then shatter the pieces left. He would to whatever the guardian wanted him to just to freely enjoy ripping that courage right out of Dream. It would be worth it. Especially if he kept provoking him like he was. He really missed seeing him suffer, and all he was doing was making him miss it more.

He was not content with just leaving, though, so Nightmare used the last strength he had to whip one melting appendage and bash his brother on the side, the same side he had been slashed on as a way of payback, watching him topple to the harsh floor like a ragdoll.

 ** _"If you ever do that again..."_**  he soughed, a low growl that kept Dream alert and sent a chill down his spine. He did not see the need to clarify anything.

Nightmare had difficulties holding back the urge to let his anger out on the smaller skeleton, but again, the wait would be worth it. He would have his fun, eventually. He would enjoy every second of it, and no one would take that away. They could do whatever they wanted with Ink and Error once they got them, he would help them out if necessary, but Dream was his to break.

**_“…you are a bigger fool than I remembered.”_ **

It was hard to turn away with a scoff and limp back where he had come from, but what was done was done. Nightmare summoned several bars from the ground as he left, turning the hollow into a cell, and Dream flinched as they erupted from nowhere with a shrill clank.

Caged again.

It only lasted a second, perhaps less, but a raging flood of memories shot through Dream the moment his eyes looked up and saw the bars stopping him from getting out of there, and Nightmare staring down at him with contempt one last time from the other side before disappearing from his sight. He remembered everything, from the very first time he had been locked up after being taken away from the village, to when powers he did not understand gave him enough strength to get out, until he was defeated and left there again, tortured for what had seemed like weeks.

He shuddered. At least Nightmare was no longer there to see his courage vanish.

Hapless, he dragged himself to the wall, finding no point in standing up, and rested against it. It was uncomfortable to no end, but he was not meant to crack a single smile there. He had chosen where he needed to be. He had to accept it.

...it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so.

“…you’re welcome… Nightmare.”


	23. Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All in all, Quetzalcoatl and whatever it was he was doing piqued at his curiosity like nothing had ever done so, and he wanted to see where his choice would take him despite the sudden warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this feels rushed. ;-;  
> I'm not that inspired recently... oh well

Daybreak was supposed to be a relaxing sight. It wasn't for Ink that time.

Perched atop of the gabled roof of one of the tallest houses in the village, Ink watched the sun rise with an expression nothing short of blank, unfazed by the light of dawn taking over. That was the part where he would be admiring the colors the environment was tinted with and drawing what his eyes saw with the typical, inspired enthusiasm, but he did not feel like it.

It had been quite the stressful time for him, and entertaining himself with drawings did not have a place in his headspace, odd as it was. He had strayed so deep into his addled mind that he had barely realized he had been idling in his own little zone since his last encounter with Error, mostly to stay away from him until those awful thoughts raiding him left him alone. He'd started to wonder if people were getting worried about him, which was why he ended up deciding to be around, extra careful about encountering  _certain_  someone.

He had only been 'gone' for a day, yes, but he was the type of skeleton to wander about for hours on end through anywhere that could be inhabited, and not seeing him even for a couple hours was a weird occurrence that would leave people baffled; he had indeed been asked where he had been when he was seen, and those who asked wondered if there was something wrong when they noticed his skittish demeanor. Ink played it off as best as he could, saying he just got caught up in silly things – there was no need to worry anybody more than they already were.

Some believed him, and some were skeptical, but those chose to tag along as well, thankfully. He didn't want things to be like that, he wanted to be able to act like everything was alright, but he couldn’t, and almost no one else was in the mood to do so either, so he'd been trying not to think about how tense everything was while sitting on a roof.

He had no idea how long he had been there, but it always felt like too little.

He took in a breath and let out a bored snort, drumming his fingers against the wooden roof. It just struck him how bored he was, as soon as he breached the surface of his ocean of thoughts, most of which he couldn't even understand. He felt like talking to people again, pass the time, think about better things, maybe make someone's day with his antics; more than a few people needed the help of a smile.

As long as Error was not around, anything was fair game.

He hadn't seen him or the other two where they usually hung out at the edge of the village, though, nor anywhere on his way back, which meant they would be far away or moving around, out of his way for the time being. It could be worth the risk, if he didn't stay in the open. He was not eager to walk around for the whole day, anyway. He would be back on his own soon enough, hopefully before Error did make an appearance in the village.

Ink hoped off the roof, his landing impeccable despite the height and extra weight of an oversized art tool clinging to his back. There were not many people around, only a few monsters and humans alongside the village residents walking here and there, the rest sheltered in their homes. It was saddening, Ink would admit that. It wasn't even that long ago when that same village was brimming with life, full of cheerful people helping expand it, a place where many friendships had been forged and created. It looked like a ghost town in comparison, a broken relic. Its relative silence threatened to tear away his will to stop brooding.

Ink first spotted Blueberry and the scarred Alphys from his universe, strangely without his brother nearby; the error trio was not with them either, giving Ink higher hopes of not having to see  _him_  anytime soon. He did not see many familiar faces straight away, only people from the village and scattered monsters further away. Neil was there too, his son clinging to his head playing with the lavender fur, and they were all paying attention to the elder Abu, as far as he could see.

They did not look happy. Or interested in whatever the human could be telling them, in a way one would listen wide-eyed to an ancient tale. They looked distressed, actually, especially the feline, in spite of his kid's antics. Ink was lured to them when he noticed the clouds of unease looming over them.

The warrior lizard walked away from the small group as soon as he approached, a clawed hand over her face as she muttered a quiet curse. She hadn't even realized he was there, and Ink stopped to look at Alphys for a second before his gaze begged for explanations; something was not right, and though not willingly, he wanted to know what.

Clearly struggling to show a little smile, Blueberry looked up at him. He might not have been able to feign honest happiness, but he was indeed glad to see the other skeleton. "HEY INK," he said quietly, lacking his usual enthusiasm. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"Doing stuff," was the artist's vague answer, the same one he had given many others who had asked him the exact same question, knowing he did not want to talk about what had happened earlier even to someone closer to him, and understanding that there were more important things going on. Blueberry usually did not mind lazy responses like that. He didn't that time, either. "So... what's the deal?"

With the much smaller kitten clinging to his drooped ear, Neil averted his gaze. Abu seemed uncomfortable. Blueberry lost the smile he had forced, fidgeting with his bandana.

Ink didn't like the pressure in the air.

The smaller skeleton seemed about to answer, not with much vigor, but the elder human did so instead. "There was another attack last night." he began, plain and simple, hands crossed over his cane. Ink's attention was over the heavens as soon as he caught those words. "It was a tame incident, no one was injured. Dream, however... He has been taken away."

Ink took his time to analyze the explanation that did not require any more depth, and in doing so, equal amounts of disbelief and fear froze him.

"What."

The single word came out of him without going through his mind first, all due to the unexpected shock that had left him cold and motionless. No one was eager to explain any further, to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating things – that was, in fact, what made it truthful.

"Yeah, that's what's up." Alphys came back to them with drifting steps, arms folded into a muscular mass of dry yellow. "Nobody noticed until that elf came back in the morning and was bombarded with the news. They're still talking about it now."

Ink let out a distraught sigh subconsciously, flickering eyes wandering to the ground. It took him a while to assimilate their new problem, the one problem he had been worried about and the last thing they needed, and he was a little more nervous than he would have liked to be. He found himself looking around, as if the answer would appear in midair out of the blue, and he wished it would. There were too many dubious, concerned gazes surrounding him.

"Well– We've gotta do something, right? Does anyone know where they- OW!"

The artist was rudely cut off when Alphys hoisted her axe off her shoulder and, after a wary start from Blueberry, brought down the cheek of the weapon onto his skull. The metal clank against bone left the lounging people staring, dumbfounded. Alphys did not mind the attention; the weapon was back on her shoulder, her stance proud as if she had easily defeated an evil force.

"What was  _that_  for?" Ink demanded, recovering from the initial impact after his fair share of seconds, a hand over his skull in false hopes of relieving the ache. He felt his mind vibrating like a gong, and he would have probably gotten a centenary bump if he had any skin.

"They also told us to stop you however we could if you even got the idea of jumping into action." The reptile's grin widened; definitely like Undyne's. "Just following orders."

A hand that did not ease the ache brushed his head as Ink managed a scowl. "Yeah, thanks for the warning, I'll go get a helmet."

He was more than a little embarrassed by the passing looks he was given by the people, which was why he decided to ignore his spinning head and get back into the conversation, pretending he hadn't gotten an axe to the head; good thing Alphys was not on her way to hurt anyone, otherwise she wouldn't have turned it sideways in order to quiet him up.

"Anyway," he started, wincing as he turned to the elder who was probably the only one he would get acceptable answers from. As long as he was not smacked in the head with something hard and heavy, he would be content. "How did that even happen? Wasn't Nim with him the entire time?"

"He gave himself up, apparently." Neil answered instead, taking the laughing kitten on his head with his only arm and placing him on his lap; the small creature, though in need to entertain himself, took it as a hint to hold still. The older feline placed a paw over his eyes, both in worry and disappointment, "This kid, I swear... He’ll always do something bravely stupid…"

Ink watched him for a moment, taking in his words. "And Nim  _allowed_  that?"

"She would never risk fighting another guardian." Abu spoke, finally. "She knew she would not win that fight by any means. They were both faced with a difficult choice, and Dream decided it was his turn to choose."

"...damn it." Ink muttered, quiet enough for it to be heard only by himself. First Error knowing more than he should, then Dream being taken away... Nothing good was going to come out of there.

He wanted his skull to remain unscathed, but he had to do  _something_ , even if that did not include an intensive search for the missing skeleton.

He turned in the general direction of the Tree, hidden from sight by the uneven terrain, hands placed on his waist, anxious. "...I'm gonna talk to her." he decided, his mutter not as quiet as before, and Blueberry caught his words quickly. No one else seemed to oppose to that idea.

"MAYBE TRY NOT TO PRY IN TOO MUCH," the smaller skeleton said, submerged in deep concern. He almost wanted to go with Ink, but he no longer felt safe wandering about with or without people by his side. He and the others had agreed to stay in the village for a while, and for good reason. "SHE'S REALLY UPSET ABOUT IT. IT TOOK LANNY LONG ENOUGH TO MAKE HER AGREE TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING. I'VE NEVER SEEN HER THIS SAD BEFORE..."

Ink hesitated before leaving, the single step he took wavering and his legs struggling to take another. He knew what it was like to be forced to talk about sensitive topics... but he needed details. Maybe he could talk to Lanny instead; it could be difficult, but it would not be as hard for her to explain the situation more in depth as it would be for the mother that had lost what she loved the most.

"Yeah... I'll be careful-"

 **_"_ ** **Hey, rainbow guy."**

Again, Ink was stopped from leaving. The blue-haired Undyne came out of seemingly nowhere – Ink could've sworn she had not been there before, and she was not an easy sight to miss with her striking negative colors and  _error_ messages following her every move like starved flies – and was striding toward him. Blueberry took a step back, out of her way as she stepped through, her attention firm on the artist.

**"Come with me, we need to have a talk."**

Ink's words hesitated, startled by the sudden presence of the larger monster right in front of him and the starkness of her voice. "But I, uh- I was just about to–"

**"Honestly, I don't care."**

And just as if he were a rag, the eyeless Undyne grabbed him by the back of the scarf, lifting him a couple feet off the ground, and carried him off. Ink tried to protest, but found no real point to it and just let himself be dragged away, looking at the others, who stared at him perplexed, and shrugging.

"Okay then, lead the way, ma'am…"

**"Careful with the jokes, palette face."**

Ink slumped, sighing his discontent out. Maybe his hopes of not having to see Error after all were fake…

* * *

"These damn-...  _monsters_..."

Boiling anger was written in each of her steps as Lanny paced through the empty grassland, the large extension of inhabited but decorated land that separated Nim's village from hers and their respective trees. She could have just teleported from one side to the other, but she needed some fresh air, something that could help her relax, and chose to walk all the way there, rambling as usual.

She had expected many things when she came back to the Tree of Feelings. She hadn’t expected to hear that Quetzalcoatl, Kamea and Nightmare had all made an unwanted appearance and forced Dream to go with them if he wanted his mother alive.

She had not taken it well.

"They always have to ruin _everything_... Never will they leave us alone."

She huffed, crossing her arms. That part of their vast world was very rarely gifted with humans or monsters, and only scarce critters like Froggits and such gave it life; said creatures looked at the passing guardian with curiosity in their tilted gazes. She wasn't setting the best example, losing her composure again, but at that point she had assimilated that she would not be able to remain calm in those situations.

The only reason she was not looking for Dream like her life depended on it was because of how defeated Nim had sounded. She didn’t want her to risk looking for him, but she could barely put up an argument. It was Lanny’s last wish to worsen her sorrow, so she let it go, for a while.

She looked up at the sky instead of the inquisitive little creatures that mostly went on with their own lives, partly cloudy but otherwise tinted by the celestial blue of the morning, her pace slowing down as her eyes lost themselves in the endless sea above. "...when did all go wrong...?"

She wondered, but it got her nowhere.

It was becoming harder to cope with each new incident. She didn't know what else to do but remember what things used to be like, before it all went wrong. Remember the ancient days in which there was no such thing as the multiverse, in which no world was overcrowded, in which the three of them could have the privilege of leaving the Trees to talk to one another without fear of being absent for longer than a few minutes.

She, in fact, did not know when the rope snapped.

Quetzalcoatl was never one to bring trouble. Never hinted at it. He was secretive, he disliked company, but Lanny would have never believed he would lose his mind one day. She had always looked up to him despite his questionable viewpoints, both she and Nim did. He was the oldest, the starter of everything; he was the one that taught them nearly all the things they knew. They were an unrelated family bound by a friendship that was supposed to last forever.

But all of that had broken into shards that only looked into the present and never saw the past; a broken mirror devoid of fix. It still hurt to even think that Quetzalcoatl had gone mad, or that he had perhaps always had a sick mind. It was betrayal. It was like he had never appreciated those moments in which they would get to know each other, share laughter and knowledge. It was like they had never meant anything to him. And that hurt.

Lanny was unknowing of what choices they had to fix things, if any – there were far too many mixed opinions. She wanted to take matters into her own hands and follow the stream. Nim wanted peace even if such thing was more and more unlikely. The people around them wanted it all to end and be free from more danger. To determine which of them was the right choice was, in itself, a hard choice.

Lanny sighed, continuing on her way. "You persistent knucklehead..." And another sigh, split between equal amounts of annoyance and sadness. She still had the idea to find the Tree of Life and take a chance to talk it out, somehow. They would eventually have to go find Quetzalcoatl and the other two of they wanted any progress, because they would only appear when not sought for and disappear when wanted.

A quick check on the Yggdrasil and the village and she could take a moment to wander over to Waterfall...

She stopped, then, still as a statue. There was no breeze that day, no sound whatsoever aside from the faint steps of the critters that played in the grass, but that was not what Lanny had heard. It was a sound rarely ever heard around that place, one that did not belong and that worried her more than it made her curious.

Voices.

They were distant, to the point where Lanny could not make out individual words, but there seemed to be two of them, possibly three. She was aware that some people traveled in groups and stayed in remote places if they did not feel like hanging around the more crowded ones, but it was still odd to hear anyone walking through there. Even before the whole incident began, Lanny never saw anyone but herself and the small creatures there; Ink was the lone exception.

She didn't want to be away from the Yggdrasil for too long, but she was lured to the voices, and after a hesitant glance in the direction of her original destination, she followed the sound instead, quiet in case whoever was speaking was someone she didn't want to lose track of.

If one followed a straight path between the locations of the two trees, the way there would be a pristine straight line of green fields, smooth as could be; if one strayed several feet to the right or left, then they would end up in an upland area, drowned in tall grass, rocks and ferns. She would always admire how varied that world could be, but it made the land below a perfect place for ambushes…

Cautious, she made her way there, using the lush bushes and scattered boulders, gigantic in comparison to her short stature, to hide. The voices were getting closer, but she could still not recognize them, or tell for sure what they were saying. One was grave, menacing she would say, quiet but as powerful and intimidating as the snarl of a panther; the other was nonchalant, serene with a sprinkle of ego and confidence. It didn't click until the elf proceeded further, and actually saw who they belonged to.

She was caught off-guard when her eyes noticed movement, flinching back behind a shrub lush enough to hide her. Her heart dropped when she peeked from the leaves, observing with precision what she had seen.

She had found Nightmare and Kamea – it was almost heartbreaking to see the corrupted skeleton in person, proof that they had indeed lost Nightmare, and it was as awful as the negative aura he emitted. She had to look back and around her, just in case Quetzalcoatl was there too. Didn't seem like it, but she would keep herself alert.

Lanny wished to teach them a valuable lesson while she could, to figure out where Dream was, but she chose to wait and listen first. If they wanted to know what their plans consisted of, exactly, she couldn't risk springing into action. Not yet, at least.

If she had to use a word to describe the melting skeleton, it would be frustrated. Not angry, just frustrated. Impatient. The way he slowly paced back and forth, left to right, scowling, made it as obvious as could be. Kamea was sitting on top of one of the smaller boulders, sharpening that cursed blade with a stone, devoid of interest toward the other.

 ** _"I don't understand him."_**  the skeleton growled, exasperated. Kamea barely raised his gaze to look at him. He looked rather tired.

"There's nothing to understand." the human said calmly. Nightmare stopped, growing annoyed at the continuous scraping of rock against metal. Lanny was uncomfortable with the sound too, shrill for her acute hearing, but she couldn’t leave for a reason as childish as that.

 ** _"Why can't he just let me do whatever I want with that weakling?"_**  Nightmare kept vociferating, hands clenched.  ** _"He wants him under our control so badly? Then why does he keep waiting for_ everything _? He wouldn't take a chance even if it was right in his face…."_**

Lanny shifted, trying to make sure she could see them clearly. She didn’t like that whole ‘under our control’ insinuation, and she didn’t like how dysfunctional their alliance seemed.

Kamea let the stone slip off his hand, observing the blade without the slightest interest on Nightmare's existence; the immaculate steel elicited a small smirk from him. "You can't understand anything he does. No one can. Just go along with it."

 **_"_ ** **_̢̨͜_ ** **_Ho_ ** **_̨͢_ ** **_w_ ** **_͡͡_ ** **_?_ ** **_̶͡_ ** **_"_ **

The melting skeleton turned around with a snarl, but Kamea did not do as little as flinch. The furious, exasperated gaze of the other caused the human to finally get his eyes off the dagger with an unimpressed blink. "You think you're the only one that doesn't agree with his ideas?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Nightmare only huffed and tore his gaze away.

 **_"So why do_ ** **you _follow him around like a lapdog?"_**

The human paid no heed to the remark, again observing the reflections on the sharp, deadly, spotless steel of the blade. "Same reason as you are," He shrugged, "I have nothing better to do, and it has more benefits than roaming alone."

Nightmare scoffed.  ** _"Benefits…"_**

"Well, benefits for those that don't get on his nerves." Kamea added later, twirling the knife in the air and catching the hilt, not at all worried about the fact that a mere paper cut from that blade could end his life. "It's simple math. If you do things for him, he will respect and even protect you, if given the case. If you step out of line, you'll just make him angry, and take away reasons for him to keep you alive. You haven't made him angry yet, but you seem on your way to. I wouldn't advise that, bud…"

Nightmare paused for a moment before turning back around to face the nonchalant human.  ** _"First off, I am not your 'bud'. If anything, I hate you."_**

"Yeah, feeling's mutual."

Nightmare paused again at the interruption, his lone eye narrowing, before deciding it was not worth losing his nerves because of that guy.  ** _"Secondly, I don't need protection from_ anyone _. That's not what I'm here for. I already am doing things for him, but he just keeps on asking for more. I don't see why you trust him. I feel like an object rather than an 'ally'."_**

Kamea stifled a laugh right before Nightmare finished speaking. "Alright, don't get too carried away." he chuckled, hopping off the boulder. "I don't trust him, he doesn't trust me. I hate him, he hates me too. It's a frail thing. Heh, and yet, I could say he appreciates me more than he appreciates you…"

The skeleton frowned at him. Instead of irate, he looked more amused.  **"You calling that appreciation makes me wonder if you have ever been appreciated before."**

Kamea walked past him. "It's as much as you're going to get from him. No one is ever above him or an equal. You will be treated like a tool either way, the only difference here is that if you behave yourself, he won't kill you. For a while."

**_"Yeah, we'll see about that… I'll think about it when he actually lets me do what I'm here for."_ **

Kamea watched him as he walked aimlessly. "That's pretty sad."

Nightmare looked at him askance.  ** _"What."_**

"That you are so desperate to hurt the little guy. What kind of loving brother are you?"

Nightmare could hear the sarcasm from a mile away, but that did not stop him from scowling. He wasn't in the mood for jokes; he was the only one that was going to belittle people there.  ** _"That is the energy that gives me power. That little guy is the one who's going to make me stronger."_**

"…yeah. That's pretty sad."

It was Nightmare's first instinct to snap and make sure that was the last thing the human ever said, but surprisingly even for himself, he held off that urge at will, with a crooked smirk.  ** _"Big talk, coming from someone who relies on a kitchen knife to be relevant."_**

Kamea twirled said blade again, copying the smirk. "Big talk, coming from someone who relies on a couple apples to be relevant."

Nightmare stood still, glaring daggers into the unfazed man. One thing was certain: he was never getting used to his snark. He had no idea how Quetzalcoatl could put up with his undying derision and indifference; if he were in the guardian's place, Kamea would have never gotten to see the light of day in the first place.

He took in a deep breath, and let it go. It wasn't the time to lose it. He could still use Kamea to obtain the negative energies he needed if Quetzalcoatl kept on not letting him approach Dream, or whoever else they caught. It was still strange that he could not feel even a tiny speck of fear from the human, though. He could be as brave and unconcerned as he wanted to be, but his aura should be enough to make him uneasy. It was not working.

**_"I've already said I hate you, and you keep provoking me. I understand you less than I do that freak."_ **

Kamea smirked at him. "It's what can be done when you have nothing to lose." he admitted, and Nightmare frowned at him slightly. "It's why I don't always let myself be bossed around. I don't care about dying, I don't care about living. The only reason I'm here is because this is fun, entertaining. For now. I hope you were not expecting me to treat you as a king, or anything like that. No reason to."

Nightmare did not grant him an answer that time, aside from a long, sullen look that promised enmity between them, and kept ambling. Lanny made sure she was out of his sight again, while keeping him in hers at all times.

**_"This is a joke."_ **

Nightmare was startled by the loud crack when Kamea slashed the sinuous branches of a bare shrub, but he of course pretended he was not. "Yes, it is."

Needless to say, Nightmare was starting to grow more annoyed than he should at the human's plain answers, and he was about to stop caring about the negativity he could get from him. He was someone powerful, someone that deserved the same respect Quetzalcoatl did; he _would_ get said respect, eventually, and he was not willing to just allow that snark directed at him.

Granted, Quetzalcoatl might not be happy if he knew he had killed his servant. Then again, people who died there were forgotten. That was what they all thought, right?

He wouldn't have to know either.

**_"Are you going to agree with everything I say?"_ **

"You're not lying. What were you expecting from this broken family of ours?"

Nightmare gritted his teeth.  ** _"If you are going to keep treating me like some child, I might as well kill you now and go my own way."_**

The melting appendages were wavering in a threatening manner. Kamea was listening, but not looking at him; he found it more fun to climb up an eroded boulder, covered by a veil of moss and small ferns. He seemed to be aiming at something, Nightmare didn't pay attention to that. "Jeez, those are some good reasons to want to kill someone."

The heterochromatic gaze of the man bore into Nightmare. "I suggest you hold that back for now. Enjoy the time you have to feel important. That'll change soon enough."

The hostile stance left the skeleton, giving room for his confusion to settle in. He had only heard Kamea being nonchalant and careless, but he had suddenly gone somber. It wasn't like he knew all about him, but it seemed like a severe break of his persona.

"I thought just like you. At first, I felt included, I felt important. Then that stopped for a while, and I felt like an object. Then, I managed to be treated as something valuable only every once in a while, as long as I did as told. And then... well, I started to realize that I was never going to be more than a tool. So I stopped caring about the aimless life I was destined to, and maybe, that way... I would be able to take revenge, some day."

No matter how much Nightmare hated that human even though they had only met a couple times, he was intrigued, as much as he was perplexed. The tendrils relaxed as he took a step forth. The small movement alone served as his question.

"Trust me on this and only this," Kamea continued, "Quetzalcoatl is going to ruin your life, just like he ruined mine. He makes you think you are more than you really are, he bribes you until you believe you'll both be on the same side. That's nothing but a trick. He slowly breaks you, pushes you to the limit, and before you even realize... you'll forget what you have always been, what you could have been, what you wanted to be. You are not an ally, you are not a friend, you're just a tool. A tool that he knows will break."

Though skeptical on the inside, Nightmare remained quiet. Lanny was listening as attentively as he possibly could, and even that did not seem enough for her. They were getting somewhere.

"Knowing this makes no difference, by the way. Once you have agreed to stick with him, you become his pawn, and if you start disobeying, you become his toy. You can’t get away from him, and you can’t just turn on him. He has already ruined my life, and nothing is getting it back. Yours will be next. And once you see the same path I did, then… the freak’s could come after yours."

Kamea threw the blade straight toward one of the boulders much like the one he stood over. It spun, piercing the air for only a couple seconds, before becoming embedded in the rock as if it were wood; the flowers and grass that had grown on it over time all shriveled and died, their green replaced by an ugly black.

Nightmare observed the damage what he had called a 'kitchen knife' could do before turning to look at Kamea.

"...but that would be quite anticlimactic." the human finally said. "This is the only way of entertainment I have. I don't want to end anything too soon. I hope you don't either."

A single eye exchanged glances between the weapon and the human. He didn't give off any good vibes, and yet Nightmare could feel nothing in him.

**_"...sure."_ **

It was all Nightmare could manage, and analyzing Kamea’s words over and over again, he turned to leave, to think about what had just happened, not taking his gaze off Kamea as he hopped off the boulder to retrieve the dagger.

All in all, Quetzalcoatl and whatever it was he was doing piqued at his curiosity like nothing had ever done so, and he wanted to see where his choice would take him despite the sudden warning. He needed to see things with his own eye first... Kamea was not the trustworthy type, not from what he'd seen. He could risk a little more.

 ** _"Well, you can go on ahead with that."_** Nightmare fully turned to leave, and didn't look back as he started his search for Error, the new task he had been given and hopefully the last before he could make his own decisions. Kamea watched him leave without much interest, but he bore a sly smile. He tore the knife out of the boulder it had pierced.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Lanny did not need to know anything else before darting off, making sure she was not seen or heard before she teleported elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates MIGHT be a little more irregular since, aside from school work, I'm also helping my sister with an Undertale AU she came up with recently. I got to work on the sprites and all that fun stuff. :P But I don't think it'd take that much of my time


	24. Blue Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd barely had a chance to look down and realize it was strings — blue strings — wrapped around his wrist before they pulled, just enough to turn him around and force him to face their owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ææææ i finally finished this oof  
> don't ask me what took me so long because i honestly don't know.

He stared into the bright, white void below him.

It didn't happen often, and he tended to forget those moments, but Error was questioning his reality again. His head was always full of doubts, full of concerns and confused mindsets that reverberated like a startled flock of birds panicking inside his skull. It always drove him crazy. It always made him question everything that surrounded him, everything about him. Ink seemed to make it worse, both directly and indirectly. Every single time. It had just worsened.

He constantly felt a strong memory clinging to the back of his mind, and it ached whenever Ink was around, a fiery knife pricking at him in an attempt to steal his sanity. It was as if he remembered something related to him but could never reach out to it and see it; it remained hidden, poking him, laughing at his impotence. He could never remember whatever it was he should remember no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how hard he tried to, no matter who he spoke to. Each time he tried, he ended up forgetting, but he  _knew_  he was forgetting something.

He, however, no longer saw the point in asking anyone or searching for further clues, not after so many years dealing with the same issue without notable improvements. It had something to do with Ink, that much he had understood. Perhaps he should leave it at that. There was no need to abuse his mind trying to figure out what was wrong with him, or maybe what was wrong with the world around him.

But it frustrated him. It frustrated him a lot.

Mismatched eyes tried in vain to gaze into the unknown bottom of the large canyon, the most bizarre part of that world, in search for one last answer, but there was nothing for him. It was relaxing, at least, in an odd way, which was why he had decided to stay altogether. It was mesmerizing, somewhat intimidating, but curious and alluring. It didn't give off any eerie feeling. It seemed like the suitable place for those that needed to be away from everybody else — a good place for him. He could see why Nightmare appreciated that place so much before he… well.  

He would admit, he missed him. They had only ever exchanged a couple of words, but in some sort of way he couldn’t fully comprehend, it felt like their mindsets were not too far apart. He wished he could have talked more to him, given that they could relate more than others. Perhaps that would have helped him.

And speaking of relating, the first time Error had found that ravine, he'd had a strong feeling of déjà vu, like he had seen it before. It felt like that was another reason why he was staying. He wished he could’ve talked to Nightmare right there. Too bad he never got the chance. Ink’s persistence on unloading a barrage of hatred each time he saw him made him less overt to people.

And there he was thinking about Ink again. Error grumbled to himself, and decided that he no longer wanted to stand and stare, tired of thinking and pondering. He wasn’t going to take his mind off that skeleton if he remained still, allowing his mind to see whatever it wanted.

He began ambling right by the edge of the cliff, going nowhere, looking at nothing but the ground with apathy, enjoying the silence. Anything to forget Ink for five minutes. He bothered him more and more each day, it seemed. He kicked some loose stones standing in his way absentmindedly.

**_"Yes. It frustrates you, doesn't it?"_ **

Error whipped around, body glitching for a brief second as he was startled. In a world housing millions of people, a voice should not have been too much of a surprise, but that place was often desolate. He didn’t want company.

The problem, however, came when Error found nothing and no one around him, and yet he  _had_  heard that voice, that voice that rattled his spine and that should have been right next to him — but he was still alone, and unless the grass beneath him had gained the ability to speak, it was not possible he had heard anything.  

The shock only lasted a few seconds, but time was a nonexistent term for Error as he stared into the empty horizon, confusion guiding him as he scanned the area. He allowed his body to relax upon seeing nothing new, but he didn't lower his alarms. He didn't know of anyone with invisibility powers, or of anyone that would have bothered walking all the way there just to find him and play an unwelcomed prank on him. He couldn't link the voice to anything that made sense.

Maybe he really was going crazy. It was not the first time he had heard the voices of people that were not there.

…speaking of,  _when_  did that last happen? He had faint memories of it…

With some hesitation, Error brushed it off and continued walking. He didn't feel like getting in the way of any kind of trouble, anyway. Maybe it was just his rattled conscience playing tricks on him. He shouldn't think too hard on things he could not understand; he would only end up making everything worse. He wasn't looking forward to a new headache.

But as he took several steps forth, there was a brief laugh, one that seemed to echo all across, and there was no way he could have hallucinated that. Error turned around again, full of unregretful hostility that time.

 **"who the hell are you?!"** he barked, teeth gritted, and he was only more infuriated at finding no one again. There _was_ someone with him, and he did  _not_ feel like being part of some joke; he would make it crystal clear no matter who the culprit was. His first thought was that it was Ink fooling around, as usual, but he had to dismiss it. That voice, menacing and yet lax, could not possibly belong to him. Then again, he had no idea who it could be, and that put him on edge.

He stood still, waiting, but his eyes were not deceiving him — there was not a soul anywhere near him, and he couldn't hear anything else that would confirm he was not losing his sanity. He held his ground against the nonexistent threat, eyes narrowed at the environment.

He questioned his mind again, taking a couple of steps back.

…he was thinking too hard. He had to be. He was hearing things. He needed that time alone more than he thought he did. There was no way he was actually hearing someone, despite the realism behind the mocking voice. His eyes were more reliable than anything else at that point, and they told him that he was alone and on his own. It felt real, but logic told him that it had to be a figment of his imagination.

It was not as hard to believe as he thought it would be, but he was not buying it.

Giving the empty space one last, untrusting look, Error turned, expecting to be able to continue on his aimless trudge until he'd had enough. He felt like he was going to need some well-deserved silence for the rest of the day. That could help.

However, as he made to continue walking, he realized there was a black mass that had not been there before right in front of him, blocking his way, inches apart from his face, replacing the distant horizon that would lead him to places unknown. Senses sparking, he threw himself back with a strained yelp in shock at the proximity of the other, his body glitching like it hadn't done so in a long time as he fell to his rear.

Speaking of Nightmare…

Despite having been caught completely off-guard, Error was quick to understand what was going on with only the smallest of glances at that piercing eye and sickening smirk and got himself to his feet as soon as he lost his bearings, because the melting skeleton that was staring down at him was not bound to be any friend of his, and certainly not the one he would’ve wanted to talk to.

 ** _"Oh, sorry."_** Nightmare spoke gently, his derision more than audible. He didn't make a single move from where he was, gaze unyielding.  ** _"Did I scare you? Didn't mean to do that. It comes naturally, you see…"_**

Error stepped away, drawing a more or less safe distance between them, but he did not try to run, or attack, or even think of teleporting. He was not sure of the reason why, he just had a bad presage about making sudden moves, and he was too shaken to muster the energy to teleport correctly. The waves of anticipation and dread that filled the once calm air were almost too much for him to handle.

He had no idea where Nightmare had come from, but that was the least of his worries. His one concern was the reason why he was looking specifically for _him_.

Aside from not moving, Error also found out he couldn't say anything. Not that he knew what to say, but he was not sure if he should say something at all either if he did. His mind was screaming, and his only choice was to remain still, try to remain calm, face the threat at all times. He knew who he was dealing with.

It was too bad he had forgotten how to use any kind of magic aside from teleporting; it _could_ be quite helpful. It was beyond him how that had even happened, because he was sure he was able to do more with powers that seemed to be slumbering, but that was what he had been dealing with ever since he woke up in that world one day. He would take a chance to learn right then and there if necessary, though.

Nightmare hummed.  ** _"You look frightened. You do realize I would have already killed you if that was what I wanted to do, right?"_**

Error did not lower his guard, taking one more step back and glaring daggers of mistrust into the other skeleton. He didn’t want to show weakness, but it was like he was being forced to by the dread spread through the air.  **"i don't care what you want to do, i just don't want you anywhere near me."**

Nightmare scoffed, rather amused.  ** _"How rude. I spent so much time trying to find you, you could at least show some appreciation."_**

Mismatched eyes narrowed at the other skeleton, trying to make it clear that Error wanted nothing to do with the current situation.  **"it's funny that you would want to waste time looking for _me_  of all people."**

Nightmare chortled, much as if he were having a conversation with an old friend; clearly it was not a mutual feeling for the smaller skeleton.  ** _"Is it? What a way to derogate yourself, now that you should be glad. The reason I came here to find you is because I'm trying to help you. I would say you deserve it."_**

**"sure you are."**

Error was not convinced that it was a good idea to keep throwing remarks like that while he had little means to defend himself; he found out he couldn't teleport at all, like that frightful aura emanating from the larger skeleton was keeping him right where he was. He realized he was subconsciously clenching his hands into fists, as if his own body were waiting for something that would not happen.

He felt small. He didn't want to stand defenseless against that thing, but he had no more options. Luck was never by his side, that much he had accepted, but that was last straw.

 ** _"Of course I am."_**  Nightmare drawled, a falsely sweet tone bothering Error more than anything.  ** _"You've always needed a little help, but since you wouldn't speak up... I decided to take matters into my own hands."_**

 **"help with _what_? why do _you_ care?"**  Error spat, maintaining a firm stance despite the growing fear, a fear he had no control over and that Nightmare seemed to have noticed if his small smirk was any indication of it. The glitched skeleton only became more anxious when the other took a single step forth.

 ** _"With those inner troubles of yours."_**  Nightmare replied, taking yet another step. Despite not moving from where he was, Error was still making vain attempts to teleport.  ** _"I know what you're going through. I can only imagine how much it must hurt, to have the thoughts you have, and to be mocked and ridiculed every day. You need to let it out. And you need help with that."_**

Error faltered, and he barely noticed Nightmare was inching closer with a painfully slow pace. He made sure to keep a more or less safe distance between them.

 **"that's none of your business."**  he hissed, less confident, but his scowl was reciprocated with that undying grin.

 ** _"It could be."_**  Nightmare used the same somber tone Error had attempted, besting him completely, before going back to a more lax speech that was almost as intimidating anyway.  ** _"You are one unlucky fellow, honestly. I pity you; you could be so much more than the chew toy you let yourself be. I want to make things easier for you. Would that not be better? To release those thoughts? Stop your incessant headache?"_**

Nightmare made a pause.  ** _"...to finally have a chance at payback?"_**

Error blinked in confusion, slightly shaking his head and narrowing his eyes as if that would help him see the meaning behind Nightmare's words.  **"what are you going on about? why on earth would my life be so important to _you_?"**

**_"Come on, think about it."_ **

Before Error had any chance to see it coming, one of the melting appendages wavering behind the dark skeleton reached out and wrapped itself around his torso in a firm grip. His arms left free, Error became a mess of glitching particles as he tried to break out of the cold grasp, pupils gone and replaced by a sea of red within his eyesockets,  **"̵w̴h̷a̷t̴**   **̶t̴h̴e̵**   **̷h̴ell̶**   **̴don̷'t̴**   **̴t̵ou̴c̴h̴**   **̴me̶**   **̴y̶o̷u̵**   **̷f̶r̷e̷a̷k̷—̵!"̷**

Nightmare pulled the panicking skeleton closer, and took that small moment to relish the sheer terror radiating from him, to appreciate his incapability to articulate, to grin at his fruitless efforts to escape. Finally, that was the kind of energy he was looking for, and the kind of sight he wanted to witness. With the promise to have more chances of feeling that despair, perhaps it  _would_  be worth it to work for someone, in the end. He had almost forgotten how satisfactory it was to have others at his mercy, far below him, helpless. Few things felt better.

Error was so bent on trying to pry himself out of the unwanted touch that he wasn't capable of punching or kicking his way out despite how close both skeletons were. His mind was bellowing with more intensity than his warbled thoughts about his ongoing problem with Ink would ever have, begging him to put his feet back on the ground and get rid of the cold contact, but it was an impossibility.

**_"You hate it, don't you? The constant humiliation?"_ **

Another tentacle coiled around the top of Error's skull, forcing him to maintain eye contact, as little as he could see with all the glitching almost covering his eyes entirely, and that was when he froze with a yelp — either because he had accepted his fate or because he was overwhelmed, Nightmare couldn't care less as long as he had his attention.

**_"You would do anything to live in peace, right?"_ **

Error didn't answer. He was listening, but he could not answer. He remained frozen, hands still gripping the frigid tendril threatening to crush his ribs, and the only sound that came from him was the sharp static of his broken body and his ragged breathing.

**_"You are tired of being misunderstood and called out for things you don't even know you did. You would like to know what secrets you hold, isn't that true?"_ **

Static continued to fill the air as Error glitched violently, and yet he still managed to keep paying attention; even in the state he was in, Nightmare's words caught hold of his puzzled interest, but he was too frightened and in too much discomfort to focus properly enough to answer.

**_"I know your secrets. I can tell you all about it. Anything you would want to know. I can help you ease your mind and get you out of your miserable reality. You only have to do me a little favor, one that you might like."_ **

Error was pulled yet closer, and his struggles renewed and his panic increased, all in a vain attempt to stop the contact.  **"̵n̷o̵–̶**   **ge̶t̶**   **̵t̶h̶e̷**   **̵he̶ll̴**   **away̵**   **̴fr̷o̴m̷**   **̷m̶e̴––"**

Nightmare stopped. Through the static filling his vision, Error could still see him grinning, and it was one of the most terrifying things he had ever witnessed. All he was waiting for was for someone to realize what was going on and give him a helping hand, but he figured it was not going to happen. Even in broad daylight, that place was too lonesome, and if anything, only Ink would ever be around there.

 _He_  wouldn't try to help him, he was sure of it. He would rather watch him die… Surely that would make him happy.

The darker skeleton let out a mildly irritated sigh at Error’s uncooperativeness.  ** _"What a pitiful display. I knew you had grown soft, but I didn't expect our beloved destroyer of worlds to be such a crybaby."_**

Against all odds, Error let his struggling come to an end, only for a confused, desperate, broken growl to come out of him,  **"͢w͘h͘at i͢s͘**   **͟t̶his d͟amn̷**   **͡dest͜roye̡r͡ thing? ̴what e̛lse ͡do i ̡n̴o̴t k̨now?!̀"**

**_"...precisely."_ **

Error stopped struggling intermittently, willing to figure out what Nightmare was talking about while at the same time trying to regain his personal space. He didn't like the knowing tone the other spoke with, nor the vehemence he stared at him with.

**_"As I’ve said, I know what you don't know. And I also know that you're dying to understand those secrets of yours. One thing, do only one little thing for me and I will tell you everything."_ **

**"yo̵u̷ ca͞n ̨start̢**   **͡by ̧lett̨ing͝ me͘ g͢o–"**

Nightmare was confident Error was not going anywhere, not in his current state, but he did not release him immediately. It was too fun to watch him panic, and the negative energy that he emanated was too satisfactory. There was no harm in playing around a bit more...

 ** _"Sure, of course."_**  Error's breath hitched when the tentacle around his ribcage added more pressure, just enough to give him a constant feeling that his ribs were about to break. The one around his skull retreated, and he jerked his head away.  ** _"You better not try to run..."_**

Error couldn't help but shiver at the growl, but he complied; he doubted his legs would even work, anyway.  **"̶no̷,̛ i͘ w̛on͞'t̢**   **̴r͟ưn,̧ d͡amn͘ it̨, j͝us͢t͡ ge̴t a͠wa͟y̧ fro͢m ͝me ̢a͢l̵r̴eąd̛y!"́**

He was kept in the air a few more seconds before Nightmare finally dropped him without much care, and as expected, his legs gave out the moment his feet touched the ground. He could not feel them; he couldn't feel any of his limbs for that matter, and he was not comfortable with the other skeleton towering over his defenseless form. He shuddered, breathed rapidly even as the glitching gradually stopped.

That had been beyond awful, and he was sure he would not be on his way to displease Nightmare as long as he had no control over his powers. He still could not teleport away. At least there was a chance he was not going to die…

 ** _"I hope you don't waste my time."_**  Nightmare warned, and Error looked up at him without moving from where he was. The glitch was trying to stop shivering, but it was to no avail.  ** _"I'm being nice with you. Don't give me reasons to change that."_**

Like  _certain someone_  already had.

**_"I am asking very little of you. It would be a pity if someone you cared about had to pay the consequences of your stubbornness... like, say, your brother, for instance."_ **

Feeling came back to his limbs the moment Error heard those words, though he could only stagger back as his frantic attempt to get up failed. He wasn't very emotionally attached to many people there, but his brother — and his Undyne, sometimes, — were sacred to him, and for a moment he forgot who he was talking to as protective instincts he didn't know he had flared,  **"don't you dare touch him."**

 ** _"Relax..."_**  Nightmare silenced Error, giving him a faked warm smile that made the broken skeleton too angry for how helpless and shaken he was.  ** _"No harm has to come to them, or to you. All you have to do is listen to me, and everything will turn out alright for you."_**

Error gave him a scowl.

The other skeleton tilted his head ever so slightly, **_“Though, for being more amenable than others… I could give you a little incentive first. There are some things you need to know now before jumping into action…”_**

* * *

"Where are you going with this?"

Ink looked nothing short of bored and annoyed, a deep contrast against the negative-colored Undyne who looked ready to rip someone's head off; out of exasperation rather than flaming anger, though. The eyeless Papyrus beside her had very mixed opinions about the whole situation, and he kept an attentive gaze on the warrior just in case he had to step in.

He had tried to convince Undyne not to blame Error's sudden disappearance on Ink and forcefully figure out what had happened earlier — they had been able to tell something was not quite right as soon as they noticed Error's elusive attitude when they found him brooding, right before he teleported away without a word, — but it had been in vain. At least she was somewhat calmer than before, which was partly why Papyrus let her proceed.

 **"You did something to him,"**  Undyne stated, waving a glitching spear around,  **"and I demand to know _what_."**  She pointed said weapon at Ink's face, the sharp tip inches from the skeleton's skull to prove a point. Ink's expression remained deadpan, however.

"You're not gonna do anything with that spear."

His nonchalance seemed to irk Undyne far too much for her own liking. She growled in frustration, slamming her spear to the ground and using an accusing finger to point at Ink instead; the weapon shattered into a thousand particles that the taller skeleton flinched at.  **"See! That's _exactly_  what's wrong with you!"**

There was an uninterested frown on the skeleton she was yelling at. "And 'that' is...?"

Ink never stopped acting passive and indifferent despite the other's clear anger, trying his best to let it be known that he did not want to be there and talk about matters that had been fruitlessly discussed endless times before. It was not quite working, much to his dismay, but that was not the first Undyne he had won against when it came to the ignoring game. He could tolerate her dragging him away, he could tolerate her forcing him to sit on a boulder and listen, but she was not going to change his rightful mind.

 **"This!"**  the glitched monster outstretched her arms to add force to her emphasis.  **"You're constantly afraid and paranoid about Error, but when it comes to us, you're either all buddy-buddy or as annoying as you can be! Or _both_! What's the difference?!"**

Had something been in front of her, she would have used it as a surface to slam her fists into; instead, Undyne took a step forth to bellow in Ink's face, passing her point across almost more efficiently than the artist had with his ability to not care. Ink was not faced by that either. He looked more indignant than anything that time.

"There's a huge difference."

**"Well explain it to me then, genius, since it's apparently such an obvious thing!"**

"You can't understand."

Papyrus intervened before Undyne found it in her to use physical strength to reason with Ink, stepping in between them and gently pushing the warrior away.  **"UNDYNE, UNDYNE, LET'S– LET'S NOT, JUST LET ME HANDLE THIS FROM HERE ON OUT."**

 **“Tch.”** The redhead did not look very pleased with the intervention, but thankfully chose to grumble and shuffle away without taking her sullen gaze off of Ink. Undyne was not in the best of moods to accept such behavior, but she still let it go., and Papyrus thanked her in his mind for it. Though she did huff out an annoyed mutter, **“Jerk…”**

Ink scowled at her when her back was turned to him. He couldn’t help it, he wasn’t precisely happy; he could be out there figuring out where Dream was in order to help the others find him, but no, he had to be there going through the most predictable conversation that could be held there because certain fish lady wanted him to.

Free to take over, the taller skeleton clasped his gloved hands together, nervous, afflicted. That was not the first time they had tried to talk some sense into Ink regarding his altercations with Error, but he could tell that one was one of the most serious they’d had and thus should pry in a little more than usual. Ink normally didn't act that aloof toward them. There were problematic thoughts drilling his mind, judging by his indifference and obvious discomfort.

 **"...WHAT WAS IT THIS TIME."**  Papyrus started, shoulders dropping as he brought himself to relax for the time being. Screaming at one another would not do, but neither would acting impassive.

Ink gave him a brief look that, for a moment, was too similar to an annoyed glare, and the other skeleton did not appreciate it much. "Oh, nothing, he was snooping around my stuff. But of course that's alright, I'm the only bad guy here."

Papyrus did not really appreciate the impudence that coated Ink's words either, and it was left clear by a small flicker of indecisive static around his purple eyes. Ink crossed his arms and looked away again, hoping the case would be closed already. He had more important things to do.

 **"WE'RE NOT TRYING TO PAINT YOU AS THE BAD GUY,"**  Papyrus noticed the accidental pun a little too late, and was inwardly surprised when Ink did not react to it,  **"BUT I'M SURE THAT WAS NOT ENOUGH TO-"**

"He never remembers."

The sass was then replaced by the irritation Ink truly felt, a low mumble that spoke a million words. Papyrus fell silent.

"That's  _exactly_  what's wrong. He'll snap one of these days because of that. No one can make him remember. That's what makes you  _and everyone else_  different from him."

Undyne let out a disbelieved laugh in the background before joining them again; Papyrus was wary of her actions once more as she stormed toward them.  **"You think us two are not off in the head too? It's a thing that happens to run in the family, he just got the worst part of it. You know, we caused our fair share of trouble too. Sometimes we remember, sometimes we don't, but we certainly don’t go nuts when we do. That ain't our fault, you get that? He'll understand some day, but not if you keep pushing him."**

Ink said nothing for a while, or even looked in her direction because he was mostly angry at her. He shifted, averting his gaze further, uncomfortable.

"…it's not the same thing."

**" _What_ is not the same thing?"**

"You don't know him like I do."

 **"WELL EXCUSE ME,"**  It was the glitched Papyrus' turn to intervene, rather indignant by the confidence lacing Ink’s words.  **"I HAD NO IDEA YOU KNEW MY _BROTHER_  BETTER THAN I DID."**

Again, there was a moment of silence, and Ink narrowed his eyes.

"...you haven't seen the things I have. Otherwise even you would change your mind."

Papyrus blinked a few times, perplexed by the monotonous statement that, for several reasons, made him fall victim to a nervous chill all the way down his spine. He stood pensive, glancing at a silent Undyne who knew better than to start yelling again before walking up to Ink with renewed calmness, falling on one knee next to the artist.

 **"...LOOK, I KNOW YOU WOULD LIKE HIM TO AT LEAST KNOW PROPERLY. I WOULD, TOO. BUT IT'S NO USE. THESE THINGS... THEY COME WHEN THEY WANT TO. RIGHT NOW I REMEMBER THE WRONG THINGS I DID, BUT MAYBE I FORGET IN FIVE MINUTES AND GET TO PRETEND IT NEVER HAPPENED. HE... HE NEEDS HELP. REAL HELP."** Asymmetrical eyes glanced at him for a moment. **"I CAN UNDERSTAND THAT HIS OBLIVIOUSNESS BOTHERS YOU, BUT YOU HAVE TO BE MORE LENIENT. PUSHING AND SHOVING IS HOW PROBLEMS ARE CREATED."**

There was yet another interval of silence, but it was not as tense. Ink eventually heaved a profound sigh; it was a defeated one more than a convinced one, though. He knew he would never see things the way the two errors did. He had a very bad presage, one that had only gotten worse since the concept of evil not missing among the afterlife's residents was discovered. His reaction to anything Error did was heavily linked to his superstitions and all they did was worsen.

"Can we talk about something else?"

Papyrus was not happy about Ink's willingness to leave those matters aside, in fact he was not happy with anything he was doing, and he'd had just about enough to let it show, especially after almost believing he had gotten him to _listen_.  **"YOU'RE ALWAYS DOING THE SAME THING, INK, DON'T IGNORE THIS OR DEAL WITH IT THE WRONG WAY, WE'RE TRYING TO _FIX_  THINGS HERE."**

Ink hopped off the boulder he was sitting on in one exasperated move. " _How_?" he stressed. " _You_ 're changing the topic of this whole thing! We’re not talking about Error’s problems or yours! We already did that! Does it ever get boring? Didn't I just say he was _spying_ on my stuff? Does that not matter? And I didn't even get to explain how weird he acted when I got there!"

The skeleton paced past a perplexed Papyrus under the gaze of an irate Undyne, his nerves sparking for reasons too many. "You  _always_  give him the benefit of the doubt. Ever wondered _that_ might be the real problem? The fact that he doesn't remember a thing does not make him a little snowflake, in fact it might be what keeps him ‘stable’. Every single person in this world has flaws and I can assure you Error has a lot, so as the closest to him,  _you_  should be the ones to assess them instead of consenting everything and stop repeating the same things over and over!"

 **"OKAY, OKAY,"**  The negative-colored Papyrus raised his gloved hands, trying to bring back what little calmness they could've had.  **"SCREAMING ISN'T GETTING US ANYWHERE, IF YOU WANT TO DISCUSS SOMETHING WE CAN ALWAYS-"**

"Oh, I don't  _want_  to discuss anything."

Both glitches paused. Papyrus' jaw hung slightly open.  **"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T WANT TO DISCUSS ANYTHING? THAT IS WHAT THE TANTRUM WAS FOR, RIGHT?"**

Ink gave him a look, mainly at the mention of a ‘tantrum’, because that was not a tantrum but a vivid display of his patience reaching a limit. "Where'd you get that from? I was just saying. I never wanted to discuss anything, I got dragged here against my will." He shot an accusing glare at Undyne, who glared back in response.

**"That is because-"**

"Because I'm leaving. Have a nice day."

Papyrus got to Ink before Undyne even had the chance, a purple glove grabbing his arm to prevent the smaller skeleton from trudging away.  **"WAIT."**

Given the circumstances, Papyrus would have not expected Ink to stop and listen, but he did, albeit without making direct eye contact. It bothered him, he knew. It made him uncomfortable and each time was worse than the other, but sometimes, sacrifices had to be made in order to find the better way in a labyrinth of crossroads.

One day, those two would have an awful argument and he did not want to ever witness that.

**"LOOK, I REALLY UNDERSTAND HOW YOU SEE THINGS. HOW YOU SEE ERROR. AND I KNOW IT'S HARD TO PRETEND NOTHING EVER WENT WRONG BETWEEN YOU TWO. BUT WE WANT YOU TO OPEN UP. IT'S THE ONLY WAY WE CAN GET SOMEWHERE."**

As before, Ink remained silent. It was a dubious silence, full of thoughts, of bad feelings. "...maybe someday. But not now. I need... some time."

He did not sound too honest and willing, but Papyrus let go of his arm as he spoke, watching him. He did notice they were stressing him too much.

"...besides, I still need to get some background on what happened to Dream, since  _someone_  interrupted me."

Purple eyes blinked.  **"SOMETHING HAPPENED TO DREAM?"**

"Our friendly duo plus Nightmare took him away."

The negative-colored skeleton felt the words leave him as he heard that, and he barely acknowledged the redhead stepping up beside him upon realizing what else was wrong. That was a point in Ink's favor, he would have to admit... No need to stress him out with sensitive subjects while he was already worried for a friend.

**"...OH, I- I... I SEE. WELL, YOU GO ON AND DO THAT, AND... KEEP US INFORMED? AND... MAYBE LATER..."**

"Yeah, talk about Error and stuff, whatever. Just... not now."

The two glitches did nothing to stop Ink as he walked back into the village. Papyrus only hoped he was being truthful and did not agree just to get them off his back. And he of course hoped nothing worrisome had happened to Dream... The last thing they needed at such a frail moment was trouble of that magnitude.

They hadn't gotten what they wanted, but at least they got  _something_...

* * *

Walking was not as helpful as he'd thought it would be, he realized. Sure, the air was refreshing, but that whole place was way too empty for his own liking and not even the company of the paper birds he'd make every once in a while helped much. He felt watched.

Lanny had left by the time Ink got back to where he had wanted to be ten minutes ago, back to her village according to those he’d found in his way. Despite being closer, he still did not want to talk to Nim about it, certain it was far too sensitive of a subject for her still, especially by how afflicted she looked, so he’d been quick to decide he would be walking all the way over to the other village in order to relieve some of the stress he had accumulated; he was still dead worried about Dream and a constant tingle prevented him from getting it off his mind. Taking a stroll would help, perhaps. Lanny did it often, or so he had been told.

Strolling along, he was not yet sure if he was going to go back and actually talk about Error after he got some clearance on what had happened last night. He didn't see the point. What would some words do? Facts were facts: Error had the privilege to never remember what he had done and nothing was going to change that. It was pointless to keep pricking. How many times had he tried? How many times had been forced to try? It was definitely going to be erased from his to-do list.

He stopped walking. He was too stressed to relieve his stress, and that was his final conclusion. A ‘relaxing’ walk over to his destination was not helping at all. He wanted to get to the elf's village already, figure out what was going on and then reorganize his choices and plans. He didn't want to walk anymore because it seemed like it was giving his addled thoughts more space to drill his skull. It was the opposite of what he'd wanted.

As soon as he stopped, though, something grabbed his wrist. At first, he believed it was the glitched Papyrus going after him and was about to complain about his persistence, but something was off. In the span of a second, a couple at max, Ink noticed it did not feel like a hand, or a glove; it was soft, but firm, slightly cold... silky.

He'd barely had a chance to look down and realize it was strings — blue strings — wrapped around his wrist before they pulled, just enough to turn him around and force him to face their owner.

It was Error, of course.

**"it's rude to ignore people, y'know."**

Every gear in the artist's mind went into a full panic mode when he found himself staring into those mismatched eyes, narrowed into a soft scowl that he could not decipher. "What the– Let go of me!"

Ink yanked his arm back, fearing the strings — did Error not say he could not use them?! — would not let go, but that was what they did, proving the glitch only wanted his attention. It gave him an odd amount of relief considering he was face to face with an Error that did not look happy to see him in a way friends or even acquaintances would.

Ink backed a safe distance, one hand instinctively ready to brandish the paintbrush if he ended up in the middle of a real problem. Despite never entirely believing Error had lost his powers, that was the first time he had seen him use his strings there, and it set off every alarm and waved every red flag. "So much for having forgotten how to use magic, huh?"

Ink knew it was panic taking over his words. He didn't feel like it was the time to talk back and be bold, but it seemed to be a defense mechanism, a subconscious way for him to pretend he was not fearing for his life at that very moment.

Error glanced at his bicolor phalanges, flexing them. Something about his stance was terribly off-putting; he was not the timid skeleton he had been for quite some time, but instead stood proud, like he knew he held the power to send them all to waste. It was far too reminiscent of  _the_  Error.  **"well, turns out i was not… _inspired_ enough to use them."**

Cautious eyes that tried to hide fear in the shape of mere dots observed Error from head to toe. There was no doubt something had changed in him, or, better said, snapped within him. That attitude was most definitely the Error Ink knew, and he was not okay with that, and he didn’t even care about the roots of that drastic change of behavior.

He wanted to be out of there, but he had to handle things carefully. He swallowed his distress, "So? Why are you following me?"

Ink could see many things in those pupils when they stared right into him, and not a single one of them was good. He was certain Error knew he was afraid of him and was hiding behind the curtains of a last-minute façade. It appeared to amuse him.  **"i wanna have a talk, that’s all."**

Oh, the things Ink would have given to indeed have a talk — with the other two more sane glitches.

Ink was of course going to decline, but the tingle got stronger, telling him it was better to tag along for the time being. It was not his intention to piss off that  _monster_  in front of him, and based on experiences he was never going to forget despite his humorous memory, Error probably wanted to  _see_  him afraid. "Okay. About what."

The black skeleton tucked his hands in his pockets. Ink felt just a little safer knowing he would not be aiming for him straight away, but lowering his guard was the last thing he would ever do.  **"about you. and me, too, kinda."**

Ink took one more step back, a hardly noticeable move. His hand inched closer to the paintbrush, though he didn't want his defensive stance to grow too obvious in case Error saw that as an excuse to turn a staredown into a fight that would not end well. His only focus was getting out of there without a scratch and he no longer cared if he had to postpone his investigation on Dream's disappearance and whereabouts. "Go on..."

Error observed him for a moment. The smallest of smirks was shown through golden teeth, and Ink refused to take his gaze anywhere else despite how unnerving it was to stare at the other skeleton.  **"maybe you forgot by now, but not long ago i asked you a question, and i wanna ask it again. you know, since we now have a chance to chat, like the good ol' pals we are. mh?"**

 _You wish_ , there were many things Ink wanted to say, but he held himself back for his own good. So much for waiting for a chance to book it out of there…

 **"last time we met, i asked you if you were afraid of me."** Error was perfectly able to see the artist tense up, his words poisonous darts. **"i didn't get an acceptable answer, so now i feel obligated to ask again, given that we are under new circumstances. _are_ you?"**

Ink did not answer, untrusting of his own ability to communicate, and it felt like an eternity before Error spoke again.

 **"come on, you can be honest with me.”** Ink hated the painfully fake cheerfulness Error used. It really was not something the clueless skeleton he had been for far too long would do. **“i came here to be honest with you, so it's only fair if you did the same."**

Again, silence, and it was not at all comparable to those long pauses Ink had made when speaking to that maniac's bother. They were far heavier, and he didn't know how much more of it he would be able to handle. Answering seemed like a bad idea, not answering seemed like a bad idea, _existing_ seemed like a bad idea all of a sudden.

"I'm not." Ink finally said, struggling to let a mere couple of words out, and he felt his voice waver and held back the urge to cringe at his lack of confidence. He  _was_ afraid and confused, he was like he had never been before there, especially because of Error's sudden change in demeanor, but he was sure that openly showing so would be his game over screen.

The grin of gold widened. It really was a mirror to the same madman that had sent his life down the drain and not the so-called innocent, renewed destroyer people were comfortable around. Every time he saw that grin, the only thing he could think of was despair, pain, _death_.

**"look, i don't really like liars. and you are obviously lying. but, i'm not going to judge you. i understand. you must be having a bad day. so am i.”**

"Can you skip the chitchat and tell me what could you  _possibly_  want to talk about?" Ink snapped, almost without realizing who he was yelling at and how. It was his frantic mind's way of showing he wanted that encounter to be done and over within the next two milliseconds and would not take lightly to more than that, but Error found clear amusement in it.

He still complied, though, not looking ready to unleash any attack. Ink would not give him the benefit of the doubt like everyone always did despite that and continued to hold his ground, more and more nervous as time went by, valuable time he could be spending in figuring out where Dream was and not playing with death.

**"well, i met a friend. and he told me a couple of shocking things i appreciate."**

Ink only observed him, wondering where he fit into the equation, while the other skeleton looked elsewhere, distracting himself with the view.  **"do you know what? apparently, i am responsible for most deaths out there. responsible for unnamable chaos. even responsible for your lingering misery. who would’ve thought, huh?"**

Ink's eyes widened only slightly, but it was an action that spoke a lot, and his reaction on the outside was nothing compared to how he actually felt. Realization hit him like a ballistic truck and he would have believed he'd just melted. There was pressure all around him. Why was the air so unbreathable?

Error was not  _supposed_  to–...

"That...That's funny." he mumbled, barely audible. "You don't usually... remember."

 **"i don't, usually."**  Error shrugged.  **"but that friend helped quite a lot. explained everything like he'd been right by my side the whole time. he made things very clear... so clear that i have no idea how i never remembered before. really put a twist on things."**

Despite how terrifying and sudden it was, Ink was quick to accept he was indeed dealing with the Error he had always known and he had no motives to pretend he was not in any form or way. He had no idea how it happened, or who that ‘friend’ was, or why they managed to change his mind unlike everyone else, or why he had snapped that time, but what was done was done.

And it was horrifying beyond words.

Ink did want Error to remember his chaotic life and the things he had done in it, but he never wanted him to actually _believe_ the mindsets he had and go all the way back to stage one. He’d wanted him to be aware of what he was and not prance like an innocent child. But Error was inching back toward primal instincts, regaining that thirst for destruction, and that was not what Ink wanted. That was not supposed to happen.

The artist took another step back, enticed to run away despite his mind telling him not to yet. "...s-so? What now? You're going to try and kill everyone again? Is that what all of this is about?"

Error’s calmness was soon replaced by an irritated glower.

**"no, not really. i want something else right now. first things first, an apology might not be out of place."**

And in spite of the hurricane of stressful emotions surging through him, anger decided to take control and Ink scowled back, indignation and disbelief flaring. "An _apology_? Really? All this time I knew you were unstable, and now you're here threatening me, and you still expect an apology? _I_ should be the one to receive one for each person I tried to warn about you!"

Error was not amused by his ire, and blinked absentmindedly. He looked like a patient predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.  **"...even though i could literally just kill you right now, you are still going to pretend you're above me. some things do never change."**

Ink recoiled, that boiling anger that was fueling him extinguished by the freezing cold of fear. Error’s grin seemed to widen each second, and Ink could swear the tiniest of particles were beginning to cluster around his eyes.

**"yeah. remember what happened last time you decided to argue with me, fight me all on your own because you had to uphold your pride? where did that fa͠ntas̡ti̶c choice get you, ink?"**

That tone, that knowing, taunting tone, it was so infuriating, and yet Ink could only stand frozen, his gaze lost. His mind became vivid then, shooting awful visions at him; visions of him and Error in a white void, white, _white_ , all white, Error was standing before him, towering over him, laughing,  _he was hurt and broken and bleeding, he was being hunted down, he lost his meaning—_

**“i remember ęv̶ery s͠ing̵le th̴i͡ng now, and they’re such sweet thoughts i must say. i remember the faces of the hideous vi̡r̢u͝şe̡s̕ i took the life of, the look of their friends and families as they watched them go… i remember the reactions of all the people i taunted, how they felt as i took everything from them.”**

All sound seemed to have been replaced by an awful beeping that rattled every bone in his body and Ink only came back to reality when more strings wound around his wrists again; not in a manner gentle enough to get his attention that time, but tightly, proving they would not let go, and he panicked further when his hand was torn away from his paintbrush.

The particles surrounding Error became more apparent, his voice breaking and warping as he continued on. It was like he was losing himself to the thoughts he was not supposed to have.

**“oh, i remember you as i took away your will to leave, your starry friend’s stupid attempts to bring you back… do you remember the day i found your little hideplace and turned it into the was̸te̛la̢nd͝ it truly was? wa͡sn’͟t ̢tha͟t _fun̡_? how could I ever f͟or̸get͠?!” **

“S-shut _up_!”

His memories had plunged Ink into a state of almost trance where he could only feel the awful chills of unadulterated fright, and he couldn't even articulate. The beeping only he could hear got stronger, dazing him, deafening him, confusing him. He felt as though he were underwater; he feared he was forgetting how to breathe.

**"feisty… and boring. you don’t app̸re̛c͘i͠at̸e these beautiful memories like i do, what a shame. you should be happy. i thought you wanted me to k̛n̷ow͘.”**

The strings pulled, bringing the other skeleton closer without much effort; Ink had almost forgotten the strength Error had.

But he was strong too. And he was not going to just let things end like that. No matter how hard shock tried to take over him. He had to get out of there. He would not die like that. He _couldn’t_.

**“anyway… what i _really_  wanted to do was express my ho̡nest̸y, so let’s do that. maybe it will open ̧y̴o̧u͢r ey̨eş more̢.."**

" _Error_ – Error,  _stop_ –"

Ink could literally see insanity slowly taking over the glitched skeleton, violent static filling his body the closer he brought him.

**"i am not happy with all the s͟tr͞es̛s͘ a͞nd͏ humilia̢tion̛ you put me through. _especially_ now that i remember everything i did was  _right_." **

The strings pulled again, harsher, enough so that they felt like they were cutting through his wrists. Any attempt to reach out for the paintbrush was thwarted by more burning pressure.

“You were _not_ right! You were _never_ right!”

A faint glow surrounded the threads. Ink never saw it through his panic.

 **"of̕ c̴o̵ur͘se͏ i ͞wa͡s͜. and here, _you_ were wro̸n̴g. _de͜ad̷ ̶w͟r̷o̧ng_. i know my limits and faults. you don't. someone ought to teach you a few things on h͘ow** **҉** **͘to ̴t̷reat͏ ͠f͞riend** **҉** **s.͘"**

The glow turned neon when Error clenched his hands into fists, a spark that travelled all across the strings as though they were cables of unleashed voltage, and it only took Ink a second, perhaps less, to realize what it was, because he had seen that before and it was one of the things he had never gotten to forget. But there was no time to find any way to defend himself from it, as a form of magic imitating electricity shot through him the moment the glow reached his hands, visibly in the shape of bright webs of electrical power.

The pain registered straight away, a burning, scalding feeling that left him in shock — and quite literally. He couldn't move any part of his body and all that functioned was his perception of searing pain, the ability to scream, and Ink never knew when his legs gave out and sent him tumbling to the ground. Everything went in slow motion.

He didn't know if it was his imagination, or if he had indeed heard someone calling out for Error when he hit the ground, as well as the broken skeleton laughing and saying things he couldn’t understand due to their distortion, and the hissing of the pseudo-electricity surging through his body. Pain and fear were the only things in his mind.

That magic though, miraculously, disappeared as soon as the alleged voices rang by, but the pain did not stop and Ink could barely tell the strings had even retreated. The world was still slowing down, it felt like he no longer was in control of his own body, instead only able to blink and make a vague attempt to scan his surroundings; it did not help much, given that his vision was blurred, and a profuse headache kept him from finding his bearings.

There was a commotion around him, that was all he could tell. There were definitely two voices aside from Error’s, he could also tell. They were panicked, worried, frightened, much like his own the moment he realized Error had very lethal thoughts in mind. They were calling for both of them, trying to put an end to the conflict, bewildered and startled.

Then there were grunts and yelps of pain from both newcomers, just as Ink began to regain feeling in his limbs, enough to try and push himself away; his wrists still felt like they were being carved into. As his vision cleared, he saw Error's brother being thrown to the ground, tackled by blue strings, and Undyne screaming somewhere behind him.

He tried to get up. He tried to get his feet back on the ground and run.

But Papyrus and Undyne called out for them again, pained, especially for Error, and a sharp blow to the back of his head as Ink attempted to flee put an end to his consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this series is almost 3 years old. what better moment to relive some old memories, huuuhh? *wink wink nudge nudge*


	25. Change is Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had wondered many times where it all went wrong, and she still didn't know. But she did not want to stop wondering. Perhaps it got her somewhere, one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh i am finally done with this. this chapter got tiresome for me somehow. but i did like it in the end, so here you go. uwu

_The young elf laughed in excitement, gleaming eyes watching as the cluster of magic she had shot from her hands rose up to the sky and imploded. The eerie sphere of magenta energy reduced itself to nothing but white sparks that slowly fell back down like snow, gentle as could be._

_Lanny admired her handiwork with a bright smile, almost bouncing on her heels — that was one of the few if not the only time she had managed to properly control the magic that flowed through her veins, managing to do exactly what she had envisioned. It was a giant's step against the many other times she had failed at doing that same thing; her sheer joy radiated like the faint glow of her wings — yet another step forward at bending her power to her will._

_She turned to the other two guardians without losing an inch of the grin she bore, her eyes glimmering like stars, like the remaining powder of the magic she had launched into the air. She couldn’t wait to share her joy with them._

_"Did you see that?!"_

_Nim gave a tender laugh and a soft smile as the elf trotted toward her and Quetzalcoatl with the spirit of a joyful child; and technically, she was just that: a bubbly 20 year old guardian, which by their standards was no more than a very active, very curious, very advanced newborn. Managing to summon physical magic, both for the purpose of beauty as well as self-defense, was a high achievement for a guardian her age, even if Lanny was the one gifted with the task of guarding magic itself — her pride was of course shared by the other two._

_"Yes, I saw that." Nim obliged, watching the elf as she stopped right in front of the oldest guardian beside her with a hop. Quetzalcoatl was carving the shape of a crescent moon on the cyan, quartz crystal that adorned his staff with a blade he had crafted himself some time back, one that he claimed could cut through anything, and only stopped to look at the other guardian who was staring at him like an expectant puppy._

_He didn’t complain about his ‘personal bubble’ that time. Lanny eagerly hoped that meant he was as proud of her as she was of herself; it had become her one and only goal to meet his standards after he encouraged her to start practicing, a challenging game she would put her heart into._

_"How did I do?" the elf asked him with about as much anticipation as she could muster, and the heterochromatic eyes of the other looked into hers with a faint glimmer of amusement taking over the concentration he’d just lost. "I improved, right? That was such an improvement!"_

_Quetzalcoatl watched her and set aside his staff after a moment, tilting his head. "You could do better."_

_It seemed like a physical and emotional impossibility, but Lanny actually stopped smiling like she hadn't been beaming seconds ago, inevitably missing the other guardian’s quizzical stare._

_That was when Quetzalcoatl chortled, giving the elf a friendly prod on the shoulder with the staff as he stood up. "You need to stop taking things seriously. That was some marvelous work."_

_The grin Lanny had sported came back in the blink of an eye, perhaps with even more strength than before. Of course she would; that was yet another goal achieved for the day, and one she had been anxious to reach. "Yes! I knew it!" She clenched her firsts victoriously, raising them in front of her. "I impressed you! Hah!"_

_The older guardian watched her as she pranced around them, pleased with her newfound ability to focus more on her powers with only a sudden burst of inspiration that was not leaving her anytime soon. She attempted some more, lesser tricks as she capered for the sake of letting out some joyous energy, all under Nim's watchful, content gaze._

_"She learns quite fast." the dryad commented, knowing Quetzalcoatl was also watching Lanny right next to her._

_"Fast enough." the feathered guardian replied, somewhat absentmindedly as he was back to shaping the crystal. Nim found the sound of metal against crystal and Lanny’s laughter in the background to be quite relaxing, a moment of peace they could not enjoy every day._

_"Seems like challenging her to impress you did work."_

_Quetzalcoatl glanced at the dryad, not quite as proud about it. It seemed like nothing more than a correct thing to do to him. "Well, she did need an incentive. She was taking her learning skills far too lightly."_

_Nim made a hypothetical roll of her eyes. Granted, Lanny_ had _been too focused on getting to know them, on getting to know herself, on strengthening the bond she shared with the tree that gave her life instead of learning to understand her powers, something that was key to them. But saying that none of them ever did that the first time they opened their eyes could be a blatant lie, and Nim knew what it was like to grow among those with more knowledge on the world. "Let her enjoy her youth. Time flies fast. The more the world grows, the less chances we will have to spend time together and practice without fear. She knows to never waste chances like this."_

_The other guardian let out a sympathetic huff. "You are one to talk. You were fairly boring when you were 20. Not saying I was not. But you were the more… scrupulous one."_

_Nim shook her head with a faint smile, and she did not stop her mind as it brought her back to a past that seemed so near and yet so far. She still remembered the first time she opened her eyes like it had happed yesterday, and she tended to forget she had already lived through thousands of years since then. She would never forget how surprised Quetzalcoatl was to see her; Lanny never brought that much of a reaction from him. It was like it had taken him a while to adjust to her existence and the presence of a new, omnipotent force that came with her: feelings._

_She still remembered when she showed her all the worlds that surrounded her, how amazed she was when he told her they were all his creation, creations that he would give anything to protect and keep in line. He introduced her to what in some worlds was called ‘mythology’, what all of them, thanks to his inducement, had based on to create their physical bodies._

_She still remembered when she, as a clueless guardian that was only meeting the world, thought he was the shiest creature in existence because of his unwillingness to speak to her, and tried her best to keep him company whenever she could. That was what had softened his confusion. His exact words as he accepted her as another supreme being were still fresh in her memories: ‘So we are a family. An odd family. I never predicted this. But I feel you’re special to me, somehow.’_

_Reminiscent, the dryad’s gaze was drawn back to Lanny as she experimented with small powers such as sparks and whatnot and entertained herself with more simplistic things, such as chasing the birds Quetzalcoatl had created long ago and left to roam his world; a resplendent quetzal, a creature he thought possessed unlimited beauty and grace, and a couple of hummingbirds, fierce warriors despite their size and apparent innocence — precisely what Lanny was expected to be. She seemed to have a connection with animals, they’d realized._

_"It feels like it was yesterday the Tree of Magic was summoned." Nim couldn't help but continue to reminisce the close past. "She was but a tiny fireball, much like us… and now she is as ready as she could be to take on her world. More eager than we were, I can tell. I wish I had that spark of hers when I was her age."_

_Quetzalcoatl hummed, pensive about the words that were certainly true, though he knew he did not have the will to prance like a child all day long. Each day, he noticed more and more how protective and fond Nim was of anything that was alive as long as it posed no threat to the safety of the trees, but Lanny appeared to be a special case. He found it interesting, to say the least._

_"You sound like a mother."_

_Nim frowned at Quetzalcoatl as he walked by her, chuckling quietly. "How so?"_

_The other turned to look at her for a moment, jocular. "You have been vehement on taking care of her since you first saw her. I know you see her as a little child that needs someone to rely on."_

_Nim knew how affectionate she had grown toward the youngest guardian herself, but perhaps that was because she had been the youngest once, before magic came along. She didn’t feel like she had it in her to take care of anything more than her Tree for long periods of time. And the only two friends she would have, of course._

_"Parenting is the last thing I would need."_

_"Tell that to me."_

_Quetzalcoatl paused to observe his interrupted progress on the carving of the crystal, blowing minuscule particles away. He wasn’t too content with the shape just yet, but there was only so much one could do with quartz and a powerful blade; crafting existent objects was not as easy as crafting new lives._

_"Inevitably, I happen to be everyone's father. Except yours. And yet you are so much more inclined to… protect life. Those birds she is playing with? You loved them as much as she does the first time you saw them. Anything I’ve created that you have seen, you wanted to look after. You even wanted to take care of_ me _. Imagine if we mixed our roles and never realized."_

_Quetzalcoatl had a funny tone as he twirled the staff in his hand, also much like a kid in need of amusement, which elicited a snicker from the dryad as well as from himself._

_"Well... I do want to protect her." Nim finally admitted, as Lanny resumed her attempts at levitating without much success; she’d thought her wings would give her more inspiration for flight. "She looks up to us so much, and we have knowledge she has yet to discover. Might as well return that affection whenever we can be together-"_

_Nim looked up absentmindedly when she believed she'd seen something in the sky as she spoke, and indeed — Lanny had approached them without their realization as she practiced, and was practically hovering above them in the middle of a failed attempt at keeping herself in the air. She was falling when the other two guardians looked up, the birds behind her, and she was coming right toward them–_

_Somewhat shaken, but certainly not stricken, the elf found herself floating upside down in front of a startled Nim, surrounded by the faintest of cyan auras that she didn’t notice. An equally startled Quetzalcoatl had the staff pointed at her, the crystal glowing as its powers stopped the smaller being from falling head-first to the ground beneath her._

_“…so much for being ‘overprotective’.” Nim jeered at Quetzalcoatl, only once she made sure any danger to anyone’s wellbeing was nonexistent._

_Despite nearly having a harsh reunion with the ground, Lanny was back to smiling and laughing in no time, unaware of the uncertain frown Quetzalcoatl was giving her. "I almost got it! Let's do that again!"_

_Nim sighed. The elf's enthusiasm was charming, though she sometimes feared Lanny was taking things too lightly, that she was too heedless of certain things. Then again, she couldn't blame her. She was in the middle of a learning process, and with all the things she could do, it was expected from her to have fun doing so. It wasn’t like a mere fall would have been lethal for her._

_"Perhaps practice some more first." Quetzalcoatl set her down, and Lanny was back on her feet an instant later. "The ground is quite the formidable opponent when one has not yet mastered flight."_

_The elf laughed in defiance. "You'll need more than some grass and mud to stop me!"_

_And once again, her big attitude brought the softest of chuckles out of the dryad. She had remarkable courage and enthusiasm that made her who she was, and gladly. Nim would make sure no one would take that gift from her._

_"Are you ever afraid of anything?" she asked with a smile, and sure enough Lanny bore a similar one when she turned to the older guardian, sticking her tongue out._

_"Not of the ground!" She looked up at the sky then, where the birds she had been chasing and trying to join still danced and twirled in the air. "…they're not."_

_It was one of those subtle things few people would notice at first glance, or ever, but Nim saw a look of longing hidden behind excitement in the elf's eyes as she stared at the birds, soft envy and glimmering awe, and then so did Quetzalcoatl. It was not the first time she had given the creatures of the sky that look, and he knew exactly what was going on. Life was a striking thing, indeed… sometimes more than it should be._

_"You've grown attached to them," he commented, also directing the aerial creatures a glance. "Haven't you?" Lanny looked at him expectantly._

_Quetzalcoatl knew that what he was going to do was a break of his own rules, but then again, they were his, not Lanny's; there was no harm in ridding her of the envy she felt when surrounded by the beings that belonged to the sky, that could naturally master an ability she had yet to perfect. He had always deeply believed in not growing attached to anything or anyone, the fellow guardians being an exception, for nothing lasted forever. Affection only brought pain and tears when the ruthless time to let go came._

_But Lanny truly did appreciate those birds, he'd noticed the few times she had been in his world. One of them, in particular, held an iron grip on her attention, and he knew which. There would be no harm in letting her keep it. He could give it a wider lifespan, perhaps. She would need company; he didn't see her stand being alone for too long, and she_ had _complained about that a few times before. Nothing wrong with her outliving the bird, either. She would have to learn the weight of loss someday, before she wrongly believed everything was dandy when it came to life._

_"If you would like... you may keep on–"_

_"Yes!"_

_Lanny's response was as immediate as light, and Quetzalcoatl was almost startled by the jump she gave. Her happiness was answered by a content, fanged smile that saw the agreement coming, and it only took a brief, sharp whistle to call one of the hovering birds over. The one he believed was the most beautiful, a creature he admired. He knew there would be many more like it, he knew it would die eventually — but one thing was appreciating its splendor, and another was treating it like something that would last forever. He was sure Lanny would understand that someday._

_The resplendent quetzal came over to them, landing swiftly on the blue crystal of the guardian's staff and ruffling its emerald, iridescent feathers upon landing. The moment it landed, Lanny beamed at its beauty; Nim beamed at the other's kindness._

_"All I ask for you is to try your best to take care of it." Quetzalcoatl stroke the bird's head with great care, and the creature chirped. "Despite everything... these hold a special place in my heart."_

_Before Lanny could express her thanks, an amount of gratitude she could barely handle, the quetzal flew right to her hand without shyness, like it knew her as a friend. She flinched at its sudden move, but was soon gaping in awe as the creature voluntarily chose to be with her. She had always thought the feathers in Quetzalcoatl's headdress were beautiful, but she could see why that species of bird was called_ resplendent  _quetzal of all things; its own feathers were resplendent, indeed._

_"It's so beautiful..." Lanny breathed, lacking any other words. The bird nuzzled her cheek with a soft clatter of its beak, much as if they had known each other for years. The elf couldn't help but laugh in merriment._

_The quetzal, which her mind had already decided would name Unn, the beloved one, flew to the observing Nim, mesmerized too by its beauty up close. Unn landed on the branch on her forehead, eliciting quite the spellbound look from her. "Oh, hello there, beautiful…"_

_Almost unwilling to take her gaze off the bird for more than one second, Lanny turned to Quetzalcoatl; he could tell she was in joyful disbelief, unable to blurt out all the things she really wanted to say without bursting. "Do I really get to keep it?"_

_Quetzalcoatl still questioned if she was remotely aware that she was going to outlive that bird and any other she might think of keeping, but he chose not to ruin her delight. Nim was right, after all; she should enjoy her youth before heavier, unavoidable matters started raining upon her as her life progressed._

_"It doesn't seem to disagree."_

_As though it knew it was being talked about, the quetzal again came back to Lanny, landing on her beret with the softest of chirps and a shake of its long tail feathers, nibbling at the cloth and expressing its affection._

_Lanny beamed again — at the thought of keeping such a gorgeous creature that trusted her as a friend, at the thought of getting to spend more time with it as opposed to having to wait to even see it, at the thought of no longer being alone in a desolate place with only the company of the sentient tree that brought her to the vast, undiscovered world, and her gratitude decided it was not able to express itself in words, so she hugged the other guardian._

_Quetzalcoatl was taken aback by the sudden embrace, not exactly knowing what to do against all that fondness, though he could allow it. There was not much to complain about — he knew he was smiling, despite his space being shamelessly profaned. He could handle silly emotional outbursts like those as long as it wasn't anything that would soon meet its unstoppable end at the hands of unforgiving death._

_For a certain amount of time._

_"You're the best friend ever!" Lanny hooted, and Quetzalcoatl was surprised she was referring to him and not the bird that was singing alongside her. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”_

_“Quema, quema, ahmitla, you’re welcome._ _Watch the personal bubble.”_

_Not sorry for invading the other’s far too restricted personal space, Lanny was back to chasing the bird and trying to fly with it the moment it nipped her pointy ear to get her attention, laughing with even more fervor than ever before as the hummingbirds joined the game, and the other two guardians were again watching them. Nim was content enough for the day._

_"We are the oddest of oddballs." Quetzalcoatl murmured, a crooked grin to go along with his amusement._ _"That is why I love us."_

* * *

Lanny let out a long, profound sigh, a vain attempt to force the sadness that wrenched her heart away. Her yearning gaze lingered in the sky like it held the answers she wanted, but there was nothing for her there. She was half-expecting to see those two hummingbirds again. It had been a long time since she hadn’t seen that species of bird in particular.

Unn had been nipping at her beret for a few minutes as she sank deeper and deeper into her memories, requesting her attention; she hadn't noticed until then, and offered an apologetic hand for the bird to land on. The resplendent quetzal obliged without hesitation, chirping quietly as it noticed an ongoing lack of energy on his best friend.

Even looking at him was becoming more and more of a challenge for the elf. That bird was not only a life-long friend to her. He was her time machine, taking her to a past that she missed dearly and that would seemingly never come back. A past where she was happy, where everyone was happy. Where there was no trouble. Where there was nothing to fear.

She had wondered many times where it all went wrong, and she still didn't know. But she did not want to stop wondering. Perhaps it got her somewhere, one day.

"I'm sure you miss our old life too." she mumbled to the bird, almost as though in trance. The quetzal tilted its head several times, its black, beady eyes speaking the words it could not use, its tail flicking. She knew he wasn't an incredibly sentient creature able to understand every single word. He had been gifted with more intelligence than other birds; he could follow commands and read body language and have emotional reactions, but he had many limits. Lanny wanted to believe he was blissfully unaware of the predicament everyone had been thrown in.

Again, Unn gave a soft, quiet trill, hopping as close as it could get to her face and nipping at the strands of raven black hair that hung over her forehead, almost as if asking her if she was okay. Lanny couldn't hide a snicker, reciprocating the affection by brushing the crest of emerald filamentous feathers on the bird's head. They were soft as cotton still, just as the first time she had been given the privilege to touch its feathers.

"At least you're happy."

It was then when she heard quiet, sluggish footsteps coming their way. Inevitably, she was on high alert the moment her sensitive ears caught the crunching of grass, but her eyes were faster to react than her alarms, and her nervousness was gone as soon as it came when she realized it was just the village's beloved baker and not a threat.

"Good morning, honey."

Unlike Lanny, Unn hadn't noticed the new presence until the elderly elf announced it with a sweet greeting, and his first instinct was to hop onto Lanny's shoulder and huddle there, analyzing the company they had and waiting for his owner’s approval.

"Morning, Nanna." the guardian greeted back, relieved she wouldn't have to deal with certain, meandering issues at a time of emotional weakness. Just in time, too. She felt a need for some company. "You're up earlier than usual."

The quetzal soon recognized the villager, and dropped the idea of hiding to instead fly to the old lady's hand and sing his contentment. The feeling was mutual between them, and the way Nanna smiled every time shown  bright smiles whenever she had the chance to see him flying free, before he was given to her. "And good morning to you too, beautiful."

Lanny snickered as the other elf nuzzled and baby-talked to the bird, who relished the attention. She had decided, long ago, when the world was still peaceful, to let Nanna in particular keep Unn for long periods of time. She had always respected her, since the very first day they met. She was the first of her own kind that had ever approached the Yggdrasil, back when she was still a young guardian, and Lanny never felt threatened in her presence. It was like the old lady had a visible haze of kindness following her wherever she went.

She was such a sweet person, her age and the circumstances she lived through never mattering to her. And she was relentless, too, and full of experience and knowledge. She was a mother, a grandmother, a great grandmother, a teacher to all... She devoted every second of her time to those she cared about. She always wanted to bring smiles out of people she didn't know; which was why, despite being just one more villager, had become a gem, a treasure among the inhabitants, and why she and Lanny had become such good friends.

Nanna reminded Lanny of Dream a lot. Back when he still... actually believed in himself. She feared he wouldn't act like that again. If he came out alive from wherever he was. She was still wondering what exactly they were supposed to do about that, if nobody knew where he could be…

She decided not to dwell on that, and instead started the pending conversation to focus elsewhere before she would grow anxious again. "So, what brings you here?"

Nanna let the bird fly around her as she stepped forth, Unn finally deciding to stay on her shoulder like a vulgar parrot. The elder elf couldn't resist a glance up at the great tree the guardian rested against, her gaze lingering on the small leaves tinted pink by the magic flowing through its roots, the indigo apples hanging from its branches. Such an imposing, regal sight they had been deprived of.

She hated the distance that had been put between the Yggdrasil and the village as much as Lanny did. In contrast to the other village, its inhabitants and guardian shared a bond based on trust and respect forged throughout many years; unlike Nim, and especially unlike Quetzalcoatl, Lanny actually wanted to be close to those she considered her second family, and the villagers, unlike those that had once surrounded the Tree of Feelings, wanted to be close to admire the plant's beauty and have their beloved protector nearby.

It was one of the reasons why Nanna had left the village despite the lurking danger.

"Everyone is worried about you." she said, voice soft and sweet, a patient smile to go along with it. "We noticed how distraught you've been lately. I especially don't want you to stress yourself more than you should."

Lanny stood up, no rush needed. "Believe me, it's not me you should be worried about." She looked into the horizon as she uttered those tired words, her mind unwilling to stop thinking about Dream and about what things used to be like. How could she? It was only a warning. Far worse things would happen, and nobody was safe from them. Quetzalcoatl was capable of many things; and as heartwrenching as it was, no more kindness would come from him.

There was a reassuring hand on her shoulder, the smallest of chirrups from the bird that was watching. "I know how worried you are. But you need to breathe, honey."

Lanny turned around. "That's easy for you to say..." she mumbled. "I'm trying. I really am. But how? This is just the tip of the iceberg. I want to, and I should, but I can't focus on anything else. Not now. Not in a long time."

The moment she started pacing, Nanna knew the guardian was up and about to start rambling as usual, and she held back the urge to roll her eyes and instead stood and stared, unimpressed. The Lanny she knew was more serious than that, and that was who she had been willing to encounter there. She knew perfectly well that the stress and accumulation of problems was weighing her down. She wanted to fix it.

"It's all connected. We should have been more alert the moment Dream and Nightmare proved to be those two's targets. One gone, then the other. And it's not just a threat. They are up to something we have never seen before, I can tell you that. We've barely started. We completely lost Nightmare and we might be about to completely lose Dream, and who knows, Ink may be next, or Nim, or me. I appreciate your concern, but I can't just drop all these matters for the sake of five seconds of peace–"

As Lanny blathered on, Nanna had lightly motioned toward her to Unn; both bird and elf agreed on one thing, and the resplendent quetzal didn't waste a second before flying over to his legitimate owner, practically landing on her face without grace to cut her off and peck her on the forehead.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Unn chirped proudly before settling in on one of the lower branches of the Yggdrasil, ruffling his emerald feathers as he watched on, his job done and well done.

Nanna had her hands crossed behind her back, an innocent stance betrayed by a flat smirk on her face that Lanny recognized very well. "You need to breathe." the old woman repeated, roping in more seriousness than before. She could see Lanny struggling to agree with her. “We will get nowhere by _thinking_ about the problems. You told us that.”

"I wish it was that easy." the smaller elf argued, genuinely anguished. It was dawning on her how little rest she'd had since Quetzalcoatl and Kamea had decided to join the party, and she was continuously contradicting herself. Sometimes, she thought she was delusional. "I've tried everything, but I can't. I can't let my guard down. There is a whole chain of events going on right now, and if I stop paying attention for even a fraction of-“

Lanny made a double-take when she caught something black and moving through the corner of her eye, and cut herself off to shift her gaze toward the new approaching figure; she felt the beginning of wary chills, but again, it was not any of the three concerns, much to her relief.

That did not mean she was any less worried though, and she almost forgot what she was talking about. It was the glitched Undyne that was making her hurried but unsteady way to them, and it wasn't her presence there that stuck out; from the closing distance, she could see the warrior clutching her side and having difficulty walking, and she was, without a doubt, hurt and exhausted.

That Undyne in particular was a rare sight around those parts, and Nanna was wary of the new presence at first, but her concern grew when Lanny approached her with equal preoccupation. Undyne nearly collapsed when she stopped, and that was when both elves saw the thin trails of blood oozing from the slash across her chest she was covering with her arm.

 **"Something's wrong with Error** ," she said between pants, catching hold of Lanny's attention immediately. There was no time to blurt out useless context. **"He attacked Ink. Probably would've killed him if-"** Undyne paused to cough, but she forcefully regained her composure as though she was trying to maintain some useless pride. **"If we hadn't shown up. He attacked us too."**

There hadn't been many words uttered, but it felt like a tsunami to the guardian and she needed a moment to let that vague information sink in. She needed many things, but that was not one of them.

"Wait, hold on, _Error_ attacked you?"

Catching the hint to elaborate, Undyne took in a few more breaths and continued. **"We followed Ink. Pap's idea, he wanted to extend his chitchat. But when we found him, Error was attacking him. Holding him with the strings and using some sort of... electricity or something against him. And when we tried to stop him, he knocked Ink out and went ballistic on us."**

She lifted her arm briefly, the gash more than visible. If Lanny had been distressed by mere thoughts before, she was drowning in dread then, and she was not focused enough to hide it. Nanna was not far off from that same hurricane of emotions, though for different reasons, and she seemed more worried about the warrior's wound.

It took Lanny another skip of a beat to process the new situation. "Where are they now?"

**"Pap went to the other village. Error left, with Ink."**

She didn't want to make matters worse for her drilled mind, but Lanny knew it could not be a coincidence; it _had_ to be Quetzalcoatl's doing, because something like that could not _just_ happen. If he’d used Nightmare to get Dream, of course he would use Error to get Ink.

Then again, it could have very well been a burst of emotions from the glitched skeleton, but she couldn't help but doubt it. Something did not sit right with that theory anyone else would have accepted, especially if Error would have gone as far as attacking the only real family he had left. Things like that were not supposed to happen.

There was only one way to find out, only one thing to do. She'd had enough.

"Nanna, take care of that wound." she said, resolve filling her eyes, coating her voice. It was not a simple request that could be denied. There was no more rambling, no more overthinking; Nanna saw the determined, fierce defender she truly was again, the one she had been expecting to talk to, though she could not help but be afraid.

 **"Hey, hold on,"** Undyne barged in, **"I don't _need_ to be healed-"**

"Be quiet."

Despite her feisty nature and ignited nerves, the warrior did not argue with the elf or even do as little as _think_ of doing so as she stormed past her, her jaw closing with no complaints ready to show themselves. Lanny stopped to turn and look at them, at the other elf in particular.

"Tell the people of Reapertale to look after the Tree. I’ll be back… eventually."

"But... where are you going?" Nanna stressed, fighting back an urge to go after the guardian. Lanny had already told them once before that she had plans to find Quetzalcoatl’s hideout and talk things out with him face to face — she had been one of those to argue against it, and she truly hoped she was not about to do that…

"I'm going to have a little talk with a friend of mine."

The old woman let her preoccupation show.

Unn swoop down from the branch when Lanny beckoned him over, and she extended a hand for him to land on. "What do you say? Want to help me find your lovely creator?"

Understanding her request to _find_ , the resplendent quetzal spread his wings and joined the sky, waiting patiently for the quest to begin. It had been trained to 'find' many times before, and had remained helpful and loyal through all of them. He did not plan on failing that one time, either.

"Honey, are you sure of what you are doing?"

Lanny paused. She had debated going to Quetzalcoatl's apparent hideout alone many times, always choosing to decide against it, especially thanks to the counseling by courtesy of the villagers she had grown up with... but that seemed like the indicate moment to do so. She wanted to check if he'd had something to do with Error's change in nature, too.

Someone would have to do something, eventually. She was tired of waiting and expecting the worst.

"Never been surer."

* * *

For a moment, Ink wondered if he was underwater for reasons he would never understand, and almost feared breathing in. There was uncanny pressure on his skull, and his first instinct other than clenching his eyes shut as if that would help the headache was bringing a hand to his forehead.

His eyes blinked open, and he was rather surprised to see little to no light around him. The only light, in fact, came from what he realized was a torch hanging from the rock wall he was leaning against. He didn't begin to wonder where he was until he straightened up, shaking the dizziness off.

"What the..."

He also realized there were pure black bars in front of him, acting as a cell to keep him confined. He couldn't recognize where he was, either; a small chamber inside a cave, it seemed. And it was not any cave he knew. He only knew two.

"Ink?"

Bringing his hand to the back of his skull, where he noticed a rather large crack that his confusion did not let him care about as much as he should, he groggily turned to the source of a voice that did not concern him much. Dream was sitting beside him, releasing a small sigh of relief.

"Glad to see you're awake..."

"Y-yeah, hey Dream..."

 _Hold on_.

Ink's eyes widened almost comically when he became fully aware of whom he was talking to, and figuring out where he was and why he was there or why there was a crack on the back of his skull became obsolete issues as he snapped his gaze toward the other skeleton again.

" _Dream_?"

It wasn't easy for Ink to will himself into believing he was not seeing things that were not there, but Dream looked very real to him, especially when he reacted with short-lasting puzzlement to his shock only to fall back to a shy smile.

"Yeah, here I am..."

Ink sputtered something unintelligible before real confusion set in, and he stood up in a hurry; his legs were impressively responsive despite having just regained consciousness. "What–  _Whoa_ , hang on a second—"

As he stood, his surroundings seemed even more bizarre, but not because he had no idea where he was — he was not _supposed_ to be there, was he? He had not been there before. He had been outside, in broad daylight, thinking about his stuff. He could bet his life that was not where he had been or could have ended up when Error—

 _Error_...

Like a switch flicking on, it became clear. Rare as it was, Ink remembered every single thing that had happened before, and its severity struck him hard. Every breath, every blink, every word, every bit of pain, he remembered it vividly, more so than any other thing he had done there, and that was what perplexed him.

He shouldn’t even be _alive_.

Looking around for nothing in particular, Ink gave Dream a rather intense stare. "Where is Error?"

Dream frowned, the serious, almost desperate tone catching him off-guard. "What do you mean ‘where's Error’? Did they kidnap him too?"

It was Ink's turn to frown, a new wave of confusion hitting him. He stuttered again, still observing his dull surroundings as if he would find an answer floating toward him like a guardian angel, and sat down again, taking in a breath that tried to settle the fire of rage and fear and bewilderment that burned him away.

He recomposed his mind, slowing it down from 100 to 1.

"How did I get here?" he asked, calmly now, firm and direct, though he was still distraught and concerned. Dream shifted to fully face him; it seemed like it would be a long story, and he didn’t like that.

"I don't know what happened before they brought you here." Dream started. "You were unconscious when Nightmare brought you in, and you stayed like that for at least an hour. He didn't say anything."

Ink frowned yet again, puzzlement weighing him down, and he shifted his gaze to the ground in thought. What did Nightmare have to do with anything? It was Error who was the problem.

Unless...

"...did you see Error anywhere?"

"Not really. What happened, anyway?"

Ink figured he could ask Dream about his stance there once his own predicament was done and over with; he didn't look hurt, fortunately.

It was then when his frown became a scowl. It was an inner ire not directed at Error but at the entire ordeal with him. He had _known_ he was going to snap at some point, he had known he would never remember without going crazy, and nobody had ever listened to him when he had been right all along. Error had even attacked his own family; he could still recognize the shouts as the glitched Undyne and Papyrus trying to prevent a death through his memories.

He had no idea what could have happened after he’d blacked out in order for him to get there, but he was hellbent on solving the mystery. If it had been Nightmare who'd brought him there, it could mean Error had decided to join the side for those who were off in the head, which to him already meant the end of the world. Or, Nightmare could have taken him from Error before he could kill him, for reasons still unknown.

Whatever had happened, Error was still out there, and that was not a good sign. Ink shuddered at the thought of him running wild out there, destroying everything in his path and laughing about it.

Again, he'd done nothing to stop him from going berserk. He could have been dead in a mere minute. How could he have allowed himself to fail so badly?

"...Ink?"

The artist didn't realize he had plunged himself into his thoughts until Dream brought him back to the surface, and he flinched as though he'd been pricked. He was more paranoid about their new Error than he'd thought. He wanted to hope it had been nothing but a hallucination caused by Nightmare...

"Sorry, I was just..."

Ink lost his words before he could utter them, and stood up again, needing some movement for his sparked nerves to flow. Dream watched him as he paced to the bars that kept them away from their freedom, placing a hand on them with the faint hope they would not be real and he was just imagining all of that. They were.

"I was just realizing how right I was."

Lost, Dream tilted his head. "Right about what?"

"About Error. He went mad. He tried to _kill me_."

The other skeleton blinked several times, feeling cold by the reveal. He had seen many things coming, but not that. Not _that_. He stood up as well. "What?"

"What you just heard." Ink leaned against the bars. "He just... did that. He remembered everything, and believed he'd been right from the start. Said a 'friend' told him everything."

Now that he thought about it, that friend must have been Nightmare. Or Quetzalcoatl. Or Kamea. Any of them was a valid answer. It made sense, after all. Terrifying sense.

Dream came to the same conclusion, though it was still hard for him to believe Error would just devolve like that. It was not something he would expect. It hit him with enough strength to shatter his words before he could let any out, but the silence he irremediably gave was something Ink did not blame him for. He knew that Error, and yet the scene still seemed surreal.

"Anyway," Ink decided to put that aside. It wasn't like he wanted to talk about the same monster that could have ended his life without regret. They had been incarcerated; there were many more things to talk about. "What about you?"

Dropping the subject just like that did not sit too well with Dream, but he decided not to pry in too much yet if Ink was not comfortable with it. He had a feeling they had captured Error too, which put him on edge. Surely there would be more time to talk about that without need to guess the reasons behind his sudden attack.

"Nothing, actually." he almost mumbled. "I've just been sitting here. Nothing worrisome happened. Yet." With Ink's presence, he also had a hunch his peace was about to end.

"...at least you got lucky." Ink said, trying to add some humor to the atmosphere but failing miserably, either because he was too shaken to muster it or because he just didn't have it in him at the time.

"Are you alright, though?" Dream stressed; he hadn't failed to notice the crack on the back of the other's skull, reminiscent of his own after being slammed against rock walls. The first thing Ink checked was his wrists. Not broken, but he could see faint scars from where strings had tried to carve into his bones. One of his hands then went back to the single crack. It didn't hurt much, surprisingly.

"Yeah. I guess. I mean... It could have been worse."

Considering what Error was capable of...

Ink didn't realize he'd erased his own, little smile as he thought about what _could_ have happened had the other two glitches not followed him. He didn't know why his mind even wanted to imagine such scenario. He couldn't stop it.

"Well, I'm okay, you're okay, we shouldn't worry." he said suddenly, trying to find any excuse to think of something else, coming back to Dream's side. He seemed unsure of what to think. "...where _are_ we, anyway?"

"...remember where you found me in Waterfall? When I, uh... ran off?"

Ink had to rev his mind a little to remember the exact place, but he did have a blurred memory of it. Error was taking up all his headspace. Damn him and his insanity. "Yeah."

"It's somewhere around there. A giant cave."

Ink looked around again. Everything was far too silent for him. "That's just nice. As long as... _he_ isn't around."

Dream gave the other skeleton a nigh unreadable glance. He was glad to see he was fine despite his dangerous encounter, but he didn't want him to be there, and he felt deeply sorry for whatever had happened between him and Error. He knew Ink well enough to tell he was still in shock over it and trying his best to hide it for his own sake.

Everything would go spiraling down of there…

"'He' will not be present for a while, I'm afraid."

Both skeletons turned, shaken by the telltale rattle that of course belonged to none other than Quetzalcoatl. For external reasons, Ink and Dream were already tense enough to have to deal with him; their biggest problem came with the reminder that they were trapped against an omnipotent maniac.

There was no denying for Ink that he would rather be trapped with Error, and so would Dream with Nightmare. They knew what those two were capable of, at least. They had already been at their mercy. But Quetzalcoatl was a different story. They did not yet know what he was directly capable of, they did not know what he wanted from them, they did not know what he viewed them as or why exactly he would have bothered to capture and confine them, and that was what made them anxious.

"You again."

Ink couldn't help the glower, knowing better than to outright show that he was afraid. That rarely proved useful; Error had just reminded him once again. Dream seemed more eager to keep his calm, however, accepting of the situation he was in. Ink had realized he had remained oddly serious even after seeing him again.

So did Quetzalcoatl, and that concerned him more so. The hardly noticeable smirk and intent glare, however, betrayed a feeling of superiority, as though the guardian knew he was looking at nothing more than a couple of useless insects that he could crush and not feel sorry for at any given moment.

"I must apologize for the way you were brought here." Quetzalcoatl started, gaze fixated on Ink. "It wasn't meant to be such an intense incident. Our new friend is quite ornery."

It all clicked, then, and the worst case scenario came to life. It _had_ been a setup. "So it was you," Dream whispered with intent. "You forced Error to turn."

Quetzalcoatl chuckled like he had been told a joke that tried too hard to be amusing, granting it some pity. "There was no force whatsoever. This misconception of yours, that evil does not exist in this world... do you truly believe it still? Everyone here is who they were meant to be; they were only temporarily stripped of their memories to avoid unnecessary obstacles."

He tapped the scepter against the rocky ground, a thud that reverberated far more than it should have, as he glared with intensity at the two skeletons.

"That is precisely what I must talk to you about. You remained patient; _now_ you may ask questions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things! new things!
> 
> so, Nanna is actually a super minor character from the (unreleased) Dreamtale comic (that's not her real name btw) and she was so adorable and i just wanted to have her in here. [this is her](https://youtu.be/PR40SiQdfp4?t=9090)  
> also, if you've never seen a resplendent quetzal before, [DO IT THEY'RE SO RTGHRTGTRNHJREGH](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3ISKCBJpCk)  
> these two will be the national treasures of this story. let's protecc them
> 
> now, translations:
> 
> *quema: yes  
> *ahmitla: it's nothing/you're welcome  
> Also, Nanna and Unn are Norse names - Nanna means courageous, Unn means beloved


	26. The Irony of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They destroyed my world… and I will destroy theirs.”

"So? What's the meaning of all this?"

Quetzalcoatl did not mind Dream's insolence that one time. He was fully willing to tolerate it, indulging himself with the skeletons' lack of understanding, their confusion, their undying will to know what would be of them. He  _would_  give them what they wanted, but he wanted to test the limits of their patience, their endurance, be it physical or mental.

He would test every single limit they had, observe and analyze them, and then tear those limits to tiny, insignificant shreds. But there was more work to do before the true fun began; breaking a spirit was an art, a process that could not be rushed, and he had all the time in the world for himself.

"Now, now, that is no way to talk to a friend." Quetzalcoatl drawled, looking down at the smaller being like one trying to give reassurance to someone lesser — falsely so. "I expected more respect from someone as cautious and peaceful as you are."

"Some people don't always deserve respect." Dream retorted straight away, eyes narrowed and fixated and powered by unadulterated resolve, never taking his gaze off the hypnotic eyes that watched him and Ink with poisonous contempt. He was having none of that; submitting and accepting they likely were done for was not an option for Dream, but fighting back was. Fighting back by showing a real, honest strength of will.

His reasoning unbeknownst to him, however, the artist was rather concerned about Dream's willingness to talk back to someone with more power than anyone would ever have in their life, though there was not much he could do about it aside from hoping he had some sort of plan in mind. Just in case things got out of hand in a heartbeat, he tried to reach for his paintbrush to be ready to help a friend in need.

Problem was, Ink silently realized, there was no paintbrush on his back. He froze for a split second when his digits curled around nothing, and he felt stupid for only then noticing how lightweight he was. There was only air behind him and not an unusual weapon that could potentially get them out of unwanted trouble for a few valuable minutes, and that, precisely, was the last thing he needed. It was strange how Dream hadn't said anything about the missing paintbrush either; it wasn't like just anyone carried an oversized art tool around, but then again, he had bigger problems to worry about, and anything other than his safety or the safety of others around him was the last thing he would stop to think about.

Ink had to accept he was relatively defenseless soon enough, and let it go before his distress started showing too much. He should have seen it coming, right? It was nonsensical to have armed prisoners, even if their foes could kill them in the blink of an eye regardless. It was not the first time he had lost his paintbrush, anyway. Surely he would find a way to pull some trick. Even in the presence of a fearsome creature that had them at his mercy.

Much to the relief of his growing disquiet, though, Dream's daring attitude was not reciprocated by a burst of ire by courtesy of the guardian. Nothing more than a light chuckle was enough to show Quetzalcoatl's amusement in full force, and it was somewhat unforeseen for both of them. Dream was not sure what he had expected as a response, but Ink had been anticipating some sort of threat; he wasn’t in the best of moods to think with a little more positivity. 

"Oh, you break my _yollotl_." The guardian brought a hand to his bare chest to add up to the taunt in company of a thin smile forever marked by those two protruding fangs — they could only assume he was referring to his heart, — something that aggravated Dream more than his words should have aggravated Quetzalcoatl. "Quite courageous for your current situation, I must say. You did not show such foolish bravery before, while you had the protection of your mother."

The golden gaze of the skeleton continued to follow his every movement while he approached the cell, as though letting him leave his sight for a millisecond would result in their imminent death and the subsequent, unstoppable end of the world. It was one of those very rare moments in which Dream was angry. Genuinely angry. That was the same callous madman that had taken him away from all he loved, that threatened all he loved, when they never did anything wrong. He had no right to laugh about it. He had no right to even _talk_ about it.

Dream was not going to go as far as calling him out for that, but he was not going to hide what he really thought of the guardian the way he presented himself to them. He never wanted to hate anyone or hold grudges, but Quetzalcoatl was not like Nightmare who was blindly driven by everything that would let him taste fear and pain, or Error who had been tormented by his own mind until there was nothing left of him. Quetzalcoatl was rational and aware, he could tell. He _knew_ what he was doing, and there were no external forces pushing him to do so.

He was one of the few people Dream regarded as undecipherable, unredeemable, someone not to try and talk some sense into and expect it to work simply because he would not care. They were against a new kind of enemy with motivations that extended far beyond their knowledge and could potentially end everything, someone they did not know but that knew them, and torn between confusion and affliction, Dream’s first instinct was to show the same hatred toward him that he apparently held toward them.

In contrast to the other skeleton, holding his ground and keeping himself upright against the menace wishing to make them feel like insects, Ink seemed more inclined to have a wary look around, half-expecting Error to come out of nowhere while they were distracted and bring hell with him, as if being trapped with a lunatic omnipotent being wasn't bad enough. He was not sure what Dream’s thought process as he defied the guardian was like, but he could not share it. He had a very, very bad intuition that he couldn’t shake off his scruff.

"Well?" The guardian had patience for years, ignoring the very obvious disdain the two skeletons scanned him with; it was more entertaining that way. "Are you going to keep chattering, or do we move on from here? Were you not so insistent on answers? Impress me with your inquiries."

Dream hesitated for a moment, his gaze, a mirror to the anger and frustration bubbling deep inside him, softened by unease. Whatever it was Quetzalcoatl had planned for them, it was one of those things he wanted to know, but dreaded to know. The words that he had waited so long to let out in exchange for clarity were blown off of him for several seconds and scattered without sense before he found them again.

Even when he did, he was afraid of them and what they would bring. "I just... I want to understand... Why would you waste so much time on us? What do you  _want_  from us?"

He did not appreciate the desperation his words were laced with, against his will, but it was all he could muster for the time being. He was tired of asking and wondering. He wanted answers. He wanted to see the sense and meaning behind all that had happened in far too little time. It was one of the few things he  _wanted_  at that point.

He didn't want to get out of there; he would only bring problems with his every step. He didn't want to continually talk sense into his brother and free him of that prison; he had no saying. He didn’t want to give Ink false hopes; the chances of their situation improving were far too slim. But he wanted,  _needed_  to know where he and Ink fit into the scrambled equation and why Quetzalcoatl had waited so many years to strike. He was lost without that knowledge, and he would rather not be.

Dream stepped away from the bars when Quetzalcoatl loomed over him, warier of him than he had been thus far. It was almost like he had a negative aura of his own clinging to every molecule of their bones, the bad vibes his calm, calculating mannerisms and secretive motivations gave off able to compete against Nightmare's. It was not the feeling of peace and reassurance of Nim, or the amiability Lanny carried with herself, and yet it had their same strength, their same request for respect hanging in the air. He was their polar opposite with just as much if not more power.

"Believe me, no time was wasted." The guardian crouched to further eye level with the skeletons as he hissed those words; his change of intonation did not bode well. "It was more worth it than I initially thought, even. The more I observe you... the more potential you show."

"Potential for  _what_?" It was Ink's turn to speak. Dream was fairly lost in the matter, but Ink was even more so, and that frustrated him too much for him to stay silent despite his caution. It felt like they were travelling straight back into a past of chaos and demise, and it was all that guardian's fault — Ink was not about to hide his indignation, his earlier apprehension to raise his voice forgotten. "What could you possibly want us for if you're not going to kill us? Are we your entertainment or something?"

Quetzalcoatl let his gaze wander between the two skeletons with a moment of silence that fell heavy upon them, stifling them. The artist had to fear he had maybe shown more resolve than he should have, but from the guardian's smile came a sigh as he closed his eyes, standing back up and facing away from Dream and Ink.

He shifted the staff from one hand to the other; the vials rattled against one another, creating, though only for a couple of fleeting seconds, an eerie ambiance. "See, it’s not about you. There is a bigger reason behind your participation. But I’m afraid you two, of all people, would never come to terms with it, unlike your mirrors. But, if you truly wish to understand… I will have to ask you to come with me. Telling will not be enough."

"It takes a special kind of stupid to do that." Ink retorted, taking a step back. "You're crazy if you think we're going anywhere with you."

Dream's silence despite his urge to discuss matters could only be interpreted as agreement. The problem was that they were not alone with Quetzalcoatl; that whole cave was a deathtrap, and that cell was the safest place for them in it. Dream would rather deal with his brother than step right into the unknown with an irked being they stood no chance against even by means of a miracle, and even Ink would rather face Error.

Quetzalcoatl paced away without much interest on the skeletons’ opinions as he hummed, tail swishing softly. "I am many things, but a liar is not one of them. Do you believe I would kill you after going through the trouble of bringing you here? Time runs out, and I would rather not waste it. Need I remind you, you are not here for a fine tea party. This is the last moment of peace you will have, so I would suggest you appreciate it."

Ink and Dream glanced at each other, requesting new agreement or disagreement, though they both looked equally lost and untrusting. Dream in particular was aching to see the truth, but it might bring more consequences than help. "And you're going to just let us out of here?" he questioned, a deep frown to mark his words. They had no idea where they were, but they _could_ make a run for it if given the chance. That did not mean they _should_ , but given the circumstances…

Dream would not do it, but Ink might.

"I do not fear what you might do if freed. I fear what will happen to you if you try anything."

* * *

And they did agree, though it took more than a bit of convincing by Dream for Ink to step out of there and follow the guardian. Dream was just glad they had come to an agreement without the need of force to make Ink tag along. He understood him, but Ink had to understand him too. They were constantly walking down a tightrope, and they could not afford any sudden moves.

Dream’s persistence had still bothered the artist. Ink was hellbent on believing it was a trap, but Dream was more compliant despite sharing his thoughts; it wasn't his intention to make their situation any worse for themselves by fighting back more than they should. He did acknowledge they would be hurt and tormented there, and he couldn't expect anything nice.

He was somewhat surprised, however, that they were being allowed to walk through the cave without restraints, without anyone watching them. It wasn't something he would have expected after going through so much trouble to capture them. Quetzalcoatl was not even looking at them as they followed behind, tranquil as ever. It was almost tempting to run away.

Almost.

"I do hope you like stories. And I do hope you are not as dense as you appear to be sometimes. You may find understanding this a difficult task."

When Dream glanced at Ink, mostly to make sure he had not run off by then, the artist made a slight motion with his head filled with haste; nothing less than a request to bolt it out of there while they still could. He had seen more than a few places to hide and crossroads that would give them some advantage.

But Dream shook his head at him. Following was bad, and running was worse; dying was not the better option if they could be given hints to save their hides and everyone else’s. He was not going to waste _that_ chance. Granted, Ink did not look too happy with his disagreement, but Dream feared he didn't yet know what they were up against, and he didn't want him to figure out the hard way, if his encounter with Error had not done that already.

"We will start from the very basics. This is akin to building a house; if you start from the roof, you will never succeed."

The two skeletons were sharply aware of their surroundings as the guardian spoke, always alert for the unexpected. The cave did seem to be endless, nothing too interesting or worrisome presenting itself to them yet, but they had a hunch they were not alone. It was too dark, a perfect place to hide — especially for certain offspring of unholy darkness. Anything could happen at any given time. They had to be ready.

Quetzalcoatl spared a brief side-glance at Dream. "I do believe this is one of those many things your mother never told you."

Dream hesitated in his step, his attention taken from the rock walls and darkness around him to the guardian.

"Three vital trees exist. They maintain the so-called order in the universe so that everything may work in harmony, and without all three of them, this world would collapse. We all understand this much, yes?"

The lack of an answer was to be expected. Both skeletons did notice a growing, sarcastic tone lacing the guardian’s words, however. It was far more noticeable that time.

"Well, allow me to surprise you. At first, at the very beginning of time, there was no magic, and no feelings. Those Trees did not exist. Only the concepts of life and death kept the universe going. I was on my own."

Dream stopped as confusion hit him like a sudden, cold wave amidst a calm ocean of warm water, Ink almost bumping into him — he was not as keen on the subject, but the artist was taken aback too. It took the both of them a moment to realize their legs were not moving anymore, but Quetzalcoatl was still walking, unbothered, not worried about them escaping.

"Everybody is afraid of what would be of us if emotions stopped existing, or if magic was no more. There isn't one living being that believes we could exist without those essential, vital forces. But this is where we are all _wrong_."

Dream was so drawn to a story he had trouble believing that he didn’t react as he would have to the way Quetzalcoatl _growled_ that last word. He was so unfocused on the world around him that it took Ink more than just one nudge to get him to pay attention, and he shook his thoughts away when he noticed the prodding on his shoulder.

Plunged in dreadful silence, Ink motioned to the claustrophobic rock walls around them with his head when he received timid eye contact, continuing to look forward with wide eyes as he waited for the cape skeleton to realize. His rigid movements screamed fear, and Dream was almost glad he did not see anything when he looked up at first.

But waiting until the gentle blue light of the staff illuminated whatever it was Ink had seen made his heart fall.

The walls were beginning to enlarge as they continued to walk — downwards, it seemed, — making more room, but that was not the matter at hand. Splotches and splatters of red with no defined form or pattern painted them. Dried. Old. But _red_. There were small figures painted with that same color below them, hieroglyphics he would say, though those Dream could not understand; among them, Ink could decipher what looked like cartoonish animal heads, and skulls of some sort, but that was it.

Dream didn't want to believe that was blood smeared on the walls, so he just let the chill run down his spine and his chest tighten and kept walking, not daring to say a word and certainly not wanting Quetzalcoatl to explain that morbid decoration. Ink began to trail further and further behind them, truthfully surprised Dream hadn’t turned around and booked it out of that place, and he was considering pulling him along with him. _He_ knew that was anything but paint.

They were going straight into a deathtrap and he was certain they would not get out of it, and if they didn’t do something, _they_ would help decorate those walls. Whatever Quetzalcoatl wanted to explain, he did not want to hear it anymore.

"You, as many others, were born in an era of wrong. A contaminated universe. Your mindsets were corrupted by the mundane mistakes that are emotions and magic. That is what I want you to help me fix, with our without your agreement."

"...mistakes?" Dream managed to ask, driven by an incompatible mixture of anger and puzzlement that was drilling his mind. His voice had weakened after passing through _those_ walls, and he didn’t want to pry too much on the matter of becoming slaves. He still remembered when Quetzalcoatl had told them that he wanted to weaponize him and his brother. He could care about that later.

Something seemed very off, but Quetzalcoatl's chortle in response to his puzzlement was genuine. "Yes, my little  _conetl_ , the only word to describe these abhorrent forces is mistakes. When I was the only one, the world functioned in perfect harmony… but emotions and magic destroyed everything I had created.”

Dream’s pace slowed down considerably, weighed down by dubiety. The three forces existed to keep stability in the world, didn’t they? That was how it had always been, but the way the guardian’s anger grew by merely mentioning them seemed to speak otherwise. “…that doesn’t make any sense–“

“It will.” Quetzalcoatl interjected, turning to the right again without waiting. “Or so I hope. Would be nice for a change.” Dream went quiet after that, and Ink still had no choice but to tag along. Everything that followed the guardian's pause was silence, and a couple of very attentive, very muddled gazes.

The cave was getting even wider, stalactites now hanging like fangs from the roof and small stalagmites waiting for the inattentive to trip. Clusters of glowing blue crystals embraced the walls, more and more of them as they continued walking, and the more turns they took, the more vines, defined by a sharp blue color, slithered across the walls.

It would be an eerie as much as an enchanting sight — if it wasn’t for the hardly visible red splatters that were also on the ground. They became less regular, but they were still there, and they seemed more recent than those left behind. There were some more glyphs on the walls, but neither Ink nor Dream were sure what those were, if they even were anything.

"You have grown to believe the world is nothing without all three qualities working side by side." the guardian continued. "Let me show you otherwise."

The moment he was done talking, as they turned left, the neverending maze of rock walls was revealed to end in an opening several feet away from where they were, and trepidation gnawed at the two skeletons when they realized that was where they were headed. There was a very soft light coming from the opening, but it did not lead to the outside, or to anything that resembled the trap Ink was still looking for.

Instead, it led to a massive cavern in the middle of the maze they had been walking through without pause for endless minutes, still enclosed by gigantic rock walls and hidden within the same cave that had almost made them claustrophobic.

Ink and Dream stopped dead on their tracks, their jaws falling open, their eyes widening, all without their realization. They spared a moment to stop caring about the guardian, about the potential danger, about what they were so eager and so afraid to know.

They just wanted to stop and stare.

The cavern seemed larger than the entirety of Waterfall, the roof so high up it made them feel like termites, and they couldn’t find the time to wonder how that fit into the mountain or how low underground they really were, or if that place had always been in Waterfall. There were many tunnels just like the one they stood at the edge of, stupefied, leading to that same place, all situated above small landslides in order to access the gargantuan chamber that was, and he was not going to lie, one of the most beautiful things Dream had ever seen.

Stalagmites formed a barrier around it, and giant stalactites hung from the roof, menacing and yet magnificent, all covered in the same blue crystals that had clustered some walls of the cave earlier on. Much bigger agglomerations of those same crystals spread all over adorned and illuminated the whole area, the entire cavern surrounded by an ethereal, blue light that gave off a feeling far too peaceful for whom it seemingly belonged to.

There was no forgetting the animals that resided there. Most of them were birds; owls and eagles of every species, of every size and shape, hummingbirds of all colors of the rainbow buzzing like a swarm of bees, resplendent quetzals gliding with their beauty around the sharp rocks in a zigzag race. Mighty jaguars and swift deer coexisted for the time being, resting, watching the birds, observing with keen eyes.

It looked like another dimension altogether.

Ink never realized he was gaping; not in his wildest dreams would he have even imagined a world like that, relatively smaller but almost superior in beauty to places like Outertale, to his own world he had cared for for as long as he could remember. It did not look real, a perfect balance between beauty and fragility.

"Welcome to my world."

Dream had forgotten all about Quetzalcoatl's existence, his mind entranced, trying to figure out what that place was, why it was there, why they had been brought there, why it was so astonishing — it couldn’t have been in Waterfall originally, could it? The guardian found their thunderstruck expressions rather comical, tilting his head with a smile softer and not as poisonous as before, and for a moment, it all looked like a friendly expedition.

"Wonderful, isn't it? Each Tree lives in its own dimension. This is a representation of mine.”

Quetzalcoatl turned to gaze into the cavern, leaning on his staff as he became absent; the sight always put his mind at rest, a sight that brought back infinite memories. It was too bad he had been forced to bring the original dimension to an end, but it had been for the greater good. There was much more world out there to claim.

None of the two skeletons said anything for a while, instead choosing to wait, to watch. Considering the other two dimensions had been nothing but open spaces, it was utmost shocking to see a place of such magnitude and complexity. The one thing that did not fit, however, was why they were there, and what that place was supposed to explain.

Dream blinked unsure, "But... what does this have to do with the other Trees?"

"I am not talking about the scenery,  _conetl_." Quetzalcoatl looked at him askance, before focusing back on the cavern. "It's the ecosystem that matters. The way of life. When I was the only one, it all worked in harmony. Everything worked on instinct. Simple minds, that at the same time were as functional as could be. None of this 'zombie' tomfoolery."

Quetzalcoatl walked down the embankment. Dream followed suit despite his awe, his eyes begging him to stay put and continue watching, and untrusting, so did Ink. "So... we thought like animals?" the artist questioned, something that made the guardian stop for a moment.

"Animals are very intricate life forms. Certainly much better than things like you, contaminated by those forces. They were some of the very first living beings to fill their lungs with pure air."

A guttural snarl echoed across the chamber like the roar of thunder bubbling in the distance, making both skeletons flinch in high alert. Deeper into the cavern, a jaguar leapt from a pile of rocks, catching a small eagle in its unforgiving claws. It landed behind large stalactites that blocked any further view, and only the sound of other birds calling remained.

Dream could have sworn he had forgotten how to breathe for a moment.

"They are a fine example of what a living being should be like. They only protect themselves, and their own if within their reach. They cannot afford to feel pity, to grow too attached. They can take lives, and they can have their lives taken. They must, and they are ready for that. That _ocelotl_ would have died had it felt pity for the bird."

Ink took a step back when the staff was pointed at them. "But you? You, on the other hand, are the fine example of what a living being should not be like. You succumbed to emotions, and you grew attached to everything you considered was not a threat. What happens now? That if those you care for wind up in trouble, you will be weighed down by sorrow and heartbreak, risk your life for something unnecessary. That is what happens when you care."

Leaving aside the awe that place produced, Dream narrowed his eyes, stepping forth without fear. It was not the first time he had been faced by such argument, but Quetzalcoatl seemed to be taking it to a farther extent. "Is that it? Is that what this is about? All because you don't understand emotions?"

There was no fanged smile anymore, not even the ghost of it. Instead, there was an exponential scowl, the irritated flick of a forked tongue. For a moment, Quetzalcoatl looked like a volcano nearing eruption, but Dream did not back down.

A small breath in and out doused the flame of anger burning within the guardian, pinching his nose in exasperation. "I could not expect any less from something like you.” Not someone. “I told you you would not understand. You can't."

With a brief rattle, Quetzalcoatl paced a few steps away from the skeletons, always watching the environment that surrounded them. They did not keep following that time. "I understand what emotions are. Otherwise, I would not be able to have a reason to detest them. Cannot judge a book by its cover. I have seen what they do to people. To _my_ people."

The same jaguar that had taken the heedless eagle from its realm in the air trotted into a larger pile of fallen rocks from stalactites that had fallen long ago, its prize held in its jaws as it climbed up with as much grace as its prey had flown. Dream couldn’t help but feel for it.

"Do you know what happened soon after your mother came into this world to plague it with feelings? I had a human village in my side of the universe, one I had watched grow and evolve ever since it consisted of children and their feral companions. They behaved like they were supposed to, driven by instinct. They always did. But then, they began to feel. They grew attached to one another and to everything around them. They became soft. Or violent. Covetous. Bothersome. They grew afraid. Of me. Of their very creator, with whom they had shared a world for longer than Nim had been alive. They betrayed my trust. Let their pathetic new feelings guide them."

It was the first time Quetzalcoatl had sounded anything other than vexed, or scornful, or derisive. Dream did not need a soul of any kind to know that was the very sound of… inner grief. Difficulty to accept. Longing. All of it mixed with frustration, a cocktail of despondency. The caped skeleton let his expression soften as he continued to listen; he had heart things like it more than once, from himself included.

“It hurt, that day.” The guardian’s gaze was lost, his voice growing distant with it. “To watch a world I had crafted wither away in front of my very eyes… I did not understand what was happening, at first. I never met Nim until several years after she was created, and even then I never connected her to the virus she had spread. I thought I had done something wrong.”

He closed his eyes.

"Soon, everything I had created began to feel, and thus began to change, to destroy a balance I had vowed to protect. But I never told her. I did not believe she would have contaminated a world so precious with deliberation. So I waited to see if she realized what she was doing to the world, to _me_. I gave her a chance, because she was something unique, a kindred spirit. I gave her my trust. I wanted her to apologize for ruining a perfect world.”

His hand clenched around the staff. “But she never did. That was when magic came along to further destroy what belonged to me, and at that point, I did not know what else to do.”

Again, Dream and Ink glanced at each other. Both could see fear in each other’s eyes, but Dream was clouded by so much more. He was starting to see what was going on. That did not mean he understood it, entirely.

"When magic appeared, new life forms started coming out of nowhere without my saying. They were beings I had not created, beings that did not function properly, contaminated, created by others like them thanks to the powers they had been given, theirs to abuse. They began spreading, more and more, until not even I could stop them. They, along with their feelings… sent all my work to waste.”

Quetzalcoatl watched the sickle crystal of the staff, absentmindedly. Dream had only just noticed how the light emanating from it was flickering, like that of a candle, an ethereal glow. "Life is pure. It must be in order to function the way it was meant to. Thanks to the freedom magic gave other beings, that purity became a joke. All living beings have a beating heart, blood flowing through their veins, the blood _I_ granted — no magic to help them live, to give them powers."

The heterochromatic glower was fixated on Ink with frightening intensity, enough to make the skeleton's nervousness shine through a facade of lingering awe and defensive boldness. "And _you_ let the worst of this happen." the guardian hissed, taking a couple step toward Ink, who reciprocated with a couple of steps back.  “You are among these atrocities, believing your existence is right, fair. You, you and your carbon copies, you brought true chaos, and yet you still fight to protect it all... You allow these worlds to exist and protect them even if that means risking your life. All because you believe they are beautiful, useful..."

"But they are!" the artist argued, no need to hesitate in his answer.

" _Nonsense_!"

That snarl, almost akin to the jaguar’s, made Ink fall into silence, and Dream, despite the many new questions that had invaded his headspace, decided to keep his mouth shut.

Quetzalcoatl made a tense pause, forked tongue flicking again, then pointed to the scenery with the scepter. " _This_ is beauty. This is what is correct. This is a _balance_. What you protect? That is nothing but disturbance. Or do you truly think a universe where people are starving and are forced to kill their own friends and family in order to eat is beautiful?”

Ink faltered, more so than Dream would have. It took the people of Horrortale years and years to trust each other again, to stop having nightmares about their past lives, to learn to live in harmony while they could.

“Or one where everyone has been turned into a primal beast in constant pain, their only goal to kill the child that caused it?”

The monsters coming from Underworld were still shaped like atrocious abominations who had many times shown they were in pain, who never believed they would be accepted, and yet they had found it in themselves to be gentle giants.

“Or the many worlds in which someone innocent was forced into insanity?"

Ink couldn’t even begin to count.

That time, not even the growing expressions of what he perceived as realization were enough to bring that mocking smile back out of Quetzalcoatl. "You think you have freedom over life. That you can control it and expect it to function properly. All those people you protect were forced into awful lives, their minds twisted into something they did not get to choose by otherworldly creatures that think they have the right to decide who lives and who does not. They are inventions. Lab rats. Creatures that should have never opened their eyes. They are all broken. All because of forces nobody needed."

"But that's exactly what you did with Kamea." Dream barged in, almost without thinking. Quetzalcoatl did not look pleased with the human being thrown into the conversation, but again, Dream did not back down. "You said you made him to be your servant, to follow and respect you. That's forcing him into something he didn't choose, right?"

Quetzalcoatl watched him from head to toe, eyes narrowed, pupils shaped like irritated slits. Dream was an attentive one, he would admit that. It would certainly make breaking him more fun.

"He was a very special case, you see. A case of desperation. I would never create something and force it to behave a certain way. That is the charm of life, after all: I give them that gift, then they may do whatever they would like with it. Everyone had been plagued by feelings by then, and the beings created by those who believe they can play with life were beginning to surpass my own. I needed someone who would not be affected by such nonsense. Someone to help me cleanse the world. Essentially, I created him to create you."

Dream shook his head. “That’s what I don’t get. Why did you need to bring all of us here and have us killed all over again? It can’t be _just_ for entertainment. We never did anything to you. It’s not our fault, we didn’t ask to be here!”

"Nobody ever asks to be alive." Quetzalcoatl interrupted him. "I thought that was common sense. But it is _my_ responsibility to give them this gift. You plagued my world, and I must take it back. And since this is the last one, I simply want to take my time watching it as it crumbles, and make sure my message to _them_ is clear enough."

Dream figured ‘them’ was referring to Nim and Lanny; what had caught his attention and made him falter was something else.

“…the last one? What do you mean the last one?”

Quetzalcoatl pointed at the roof of the cavern with the staff. “See those?” It took the skeletons a moment to realize he was talking about the giant roots protruding from it, and they were caught off-guard by their sight. How they hadn’t seen those before was beyond them, especially considering they led to and branched around several other entrances surrounded by a wavering cyan light, like portals. “They are the roots of the Tree of Life.”

Dream snapped his gaze back to the guardian as Ink looked on, squinting. “…but wasn’t the Tree-“

“Out there? It was a decoy. A fake one.”

Again, confusion tried to drown them. Ink hadn’t seen the Tree of Life himself, but the way Dream frowned and froze without words made him worry as much as he would have had he been there before.

“Unlike you, I am not dead. If I was, there would be nothing left alive outside of this place. I have freedom over this afterlife. I can be here physically, or I can return as a mere apparition. So can the Tree, which I used as bait to lure you here, let you become familiar with this place. However, Nim and Lanny did die. Their Trees only work here.”

It took Ink and Dream a moment to sink that in, to grasp the sense behind those words. Terror swept over their faces when it did, to the point where they could not reciprocate the mocking smile Quetzalcoatl gave them with hatred. “…s-so everything else out there…?” Ink did not want to finish the sentence.

“Nobody feels anything anymore. And everything that had been created with magic is gone. Only your world remains. All else has been taken back, once again the way it should have always been.”

Dream’s breathing was becoming ragged, harsh. To think of all those people, stripped of their personalities, of all the beings that had faded out of existence as the magic that kept them alive was ripped from their world… “You can’t do that.” he hissed, his fists clenching. “They had the same right to be alive as anybody else, they never bothered you! You’re insane if you think this will fix anything!”

Quetzalcoatl was not impressed by the outburst. If anything, he looked at Dream with pity. “See? Useless emotions at work. The land I came from would have accepted the erasure of a mistake instead of wasting their precious time crying over it.”

“The world needs emotions.” Dream kept arguing, even as the guardian sighed in exasperation and began to ignore his reasoning. “There is no way people could live without them. It has been this way for years, why couldn’t you just let them be? They’re fundamental for life to keep going.” Quetzalcoatl snapped his gaze toward him.

“You confuse emotions with responses.” he said, calmly despite his sullen stare. “Happiness is not an emotion. It’s a state of calm. Fear is not an emotion, either. It’s an impulse to run from danger and survive. Sadness is not an emotion, but a way to mourn someone who was loved. That, too, is a response, another way to refer to trust. Even anger is a response, a stronger mechanism for defense. Rage, for example, is an emotion, causing wars, revenge, grudges. Terror is an emotion, a fear so strong it deviates from its purpose and makes people prone to death.”

He vaguely motioned to the two, disbelieved skeletons. “Grief, too, is an emotion, bereaving people with excessive sadness, forcing them to take absurd choices that endanger them and those around them. Love contaminated by feelings becomes immoderate care, causing people to risk their lives for those they claim to care about. I know what life was like before all of this. This, is a joke.”

The guardian let a passing hummingbird, one with resplendent feathers of bronze, hover close to the crystal of his staff before finally landing on it. Dream would have taken the time to appreciate a rare sight such as the bird was had a maniac not been there with them.

“Neither Nim nor Lanny ever took responsibility for the way they were shaping a world that belonged to me. And even after I taught them everything they know, they began feeling _superior_ to me. They questioned _my_ choices, and never repented theirs.”

The bird, surprisingly, let him stroke its tiny, frail feathers, chirruping ever so quietly before it flew off to join the others, up in the air away from the lurking predators that both skeletons were still anxious about.

“Everything betrayed me, all thanks to them. I waited years, and years, for them to understand. But they never did. And I finally had enough. They destroyed my world… and I will destroy theirs.”

Again, the guardian forgot his vexation to plunge back into a state of longing, his gaze low, thoughtful, trying to reminisce what the world was like before everything started to feel things that tore them apart, before strange creatures with no care for real lives began plaguing the world. He still remember the very moment it happened, and the pain he felt when he went from a beloved giver of life to a creature feared for reasons he did not yet know, someone lesser that would no longer matter.

"…so all of this, just to kill us all?" Dream finally asked, not knowing what else to say, taking well in mind the distance in the guardian’s voice; his own just was as low. “What you’re doing is revenge. Isn’t that what comes with rage?”

Quetzalcoatl glanced at him. “Sometimes, people have to make extreme choices. I want them to understand just what I had to go through . They deserve no less than that for all these years of torment after my dedication to make them better, to stop them from claiming my world as theirs.”

"…the biggest irony of life is that no one lives all the way through it."

There was an explosion close by, then; certainly not the mighty roar of a jaguar, which in fact scrambled away from the sound. It made the floor they stood on tremor softly for a moment, and all the birds and beasts scattered into what Ink and Dream thought were portals, which indeed were. They would figure that out later.

Quetzalcoatl did not look half as concerned about the interruption as the two skeletons were. Still without a care about leaving them behind, unattended, he walked in the direction of the noise. Dream remained frozen, unknowing of what to do, his skull throbbing with questions and answers he was still working hard to decipher with the information they had gathered, until Ink tugged at his sleeve.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here!"

Ink was instantly shushed. To say the least, the artist was bewildered when, instead of taking the slim chance they had, Dream followed Quetzalcoatl to the source of the commotion. Ink was left there, stuttering, glancing between him and their way back.

…he was not going out there alone, and he was not leaving Dream to his luck.

That did not mean he was happy about it. But he was glad he had been corrupted into 'immoderate care'. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> structuring this was such a pain, oof.  
> i did not want to reveal too much just yet. Quetz has his fair share of motivations; it's more fun with the mystery factor. ;)
> 
> translations:  
> *Yollotl: heart (he also uses this word to refer to souls)  
> *Ocelotl: jaguar


	27. Helheim's Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn’t know who she was speaking to. That was not the guardian of life she knew. And if who she knew had been a hoax, then that maniac had no right to be called a guardian, but a devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, finally a chapter i'm really proud of  
> this is very long but i was inspired. i hope it makes up for the 10000+ words it has. uwu  
> i've wanted to write this one for a while now
> 
> also i'm on spring break but don't expect me to work on chapters any faster  
> i'm too lazy ok. :D
> 
> happy late easter

Lanny continued to pace, her attention never wavering away from her uncertain surroundings. Waterfall was a cold place, beautiful as it might be, even colder without the ambiance of people walking by. She had stopped seeing timid people quite a while ago, and that gave her bad vibes. Everything was too quiet, to the point where she could even hear the flaps of Unn's swift wings several feet away from her.

It wasn’t like she had ever wandered too far into the Underground, neither in life nor in that withering place. She didn’t know how it was structured, before or after the warnings. She didn’t know where people would choose to reside. But she had still expected way more people around every corner, considering their large numbers and the amount of secure places Waterfall offered — even the Ruins were packed with humans and monsters.

She didn’t like it one bit. It was like every living being had vanished. She had been roaming the area for close to an hour, at the very least, and she had not yet found anyone that wasn’t close to the entrance of Waterfall, or even anything that could give her a hint of where else to go aside from lakes, puddles, rocks, cliffs, bridges, luminous crystals… nothing of interest, things she had seen in every turn she had made.  

If only Ink were there to guide her with that messy map he had drawn… She just hoped the two missing skeletons were alright.

A soft chirp, so soft and yet able to echo across the cave-like structure of Waterfall with no other sound to veil it, brought her gaze to the emerald bird. Unn had perched on a ledge higher up from where she was, rather insistent on something on the ground. He didn't know what kind of clues they were _exactly_ looking for, but anything that caught his attention would catch Lanny's. She trusted him enough to assure he wouldn’t lead her to something useless.

She hovered up to him and the resplendent quetzal hopped back to give her space to land before going back to that spot on the rocky floor he was so invested on, switching glances between her and his discovery.

"What's that?"

She crouched. Unn pecked at the ground the same way a chicken would search for seeds, but his finding was no folly; his feathers were ruffled as he signaled the only way he knew how to. The area was dark and mossy, and whatever he had spotted was just as dark and blended in with the ground, but the glow of the elf’s wings and her sharp vision were more than enough to see.

It was dried blood, unmistakably. Only a few small droplets, but they were there.

Her heart skipped a beat. Vigilant, Lanny looked around her as apprehension began to settle in, but the cost seemed clear and no new sounds made a grand entrance despite the stiffness hanging in the air. Her wings flickered with unease, but she willed herself into taking a calming breath.

She shouldn’t worry that much, not yet. She had no reason to. If someone had been killed or injured, the ground would be coated by more than a couple droplets of blood that had been there for a while. Perhaps it had been an accident. Perhaps someone had fallen and left with a bruise. She shouldn’t jump into conclusions.

When her attention was drawn off the blood to the scenery in front of her, an opening among the rock walls she had only just noticed, her gaze lingered, just as Unn hopped onto her shoulder and nipped at her braids. She had to ignore the tickling sensation as he ruffled his feathers again. The large, open space that lay down there was far more important.

She could bet her life she had not been through that specific part of Waterfall yet. None of them had been so open, so large, devoid of claustrophobic walls, devoid of everything for that matter. There were no lakes, no structures, not even any significant plant life, nothing aside from lone puddles and small rocks scattered about, and such sight was more off-putting than it should have been. Then again, Lanny did know that many parts of the Underground had never been explored and populated; she didn’t need to hang down there and see for herself with so many Asgores — or whoever else took the role of king or queen — to talk to on the surface.

Waterfall was much bigger than it appeared. Nothing to fear about one of its many uncharted areas.

Lanny rose slowly, watching the space below with the sharpness of an eagle and making sure it was safe to proceed. As bizarre as the scenery was, her suspicions did not grow. Nothing moved, nothing revealed its position, and there were few places for anyone to hide; not like setting up an ambush was easy with Unn's observant eyes surveying the area, but she would not take anything for granted. Quetzalcoatl was frighteningly sly and cunning. He could be watching her every move and she would have no idea until it was too late.

A light head gesture was enough to get Unn on the move. Fearless, the quetzal swoop down, gliding along as Lanny hovered straight down the ridge, always careful not to make her presence too obvious for any nasty surprise. Her eyes wandered from her surroundings, to back where she had come from, to Unn as he flew above her as high as he could go. There was nothing of interest there either, but she was getting very strange vibes out of that place in particular.

The silence crushed everything in its path. It was even worse than before, she could say. It felt like she was walking through a world stopped by time.

She had only taken less than ten cautious steps forth when Unn gave another soft call, gliding down several feet away from her in a circle, and she believed he had found something of interest far too soon for how desolate that place was. Lanny could hear the nervous thumping of her heart as she approached; she really could not think of anything nice that served as a clue in there, but she was going to decipher what was going on, no matter if she had to go through piles of dust to do so.

The new discovery was nothing morbid, however, but intrigue held off a relieved sigh. No, it was not morbid, nothing worrisome at all, but it was unusual.

The moment he landed, Unn started playing around with one of the many blue leaves scattered on the ground, which were apparently what had made him inquisitive, simply because they were leaves scattered in an almost perfect circle in the middle of that flatland, a strange sight that did not miss his watchful eye. The odd thing about them wasn't the lack of trees or plants in general they could have fallen from. Lanny had seen those leaves before. She was sure of it.

She took one of them as she came over, and observed it like it was jewelry. Coated in a dark color, akin to prussian blue. Soft, almost silky. Slightly barbed edges that could cut like paper. As much as it confused her, it was indeed the type of leaf she had believed, and the smallest of peeks at it radiated memories at her, memories that were as uncertain as they were clear. She knew many types of trees, and could recognize most only by their fallen leaves. But those belonged to no ordinary tree.

They were from the Tree of Life.

It was not a stretch, nor a desperate attempt at finding what she had been looking for. She had vast knowledge on those things, and there was no mistake. Only they had such color, a color that had been engraved in her mind the moment she first saw that tree because her first thought had been how beautiful it was; only they had such subtle shape only very certain people could tell apart from any other leaf; only they were just the right size to be recognizable.

Not to mention Dream had said he had found the Tree of Life when he was brought back from Waterfall. It was the perfect connection.

All the clues to indicate that they were indeed from said tree were what put Lanny on edge, however, while Unn, oblivious to his finding, continued to entertain himself pecking at the lone leaves. Quetzalcoatl had to be somewhere around there, if those had been left behind. He couldn’t be that far from what he had been created to protect. The question was where. Why would those leaves be there? There was no Tree to be seen, only stagnant puddles, rocks, a large mountain.

Lanny stopped scanning.

A large mountain, the entrance to which was an ominous cave from where she could see the faintest of blue glows, like those from the crystals scattered around other parts of Waterfall, but whatever was making that light was not making it bright enough for her to see what was inside. The sides of the mountain were brimming with the shrubbery the general landscape was devoid of, stretching out like wings of its own; it was almost like an oasis made out of anything that wasn’t plain, moist earth, and Lanny wasn’t going to question how she hadn’t seen that before or how there even was a mountain of that considerable height underground.

She had to have found Quetzalcoatl's lair. It was the only thing that made sense. A desolate place, scattered leaves from the Tree of Life, a mountain that probably nobody that had ever set foot in the Underground had found… All the clues led her to that conclusion without sidetracks. She would have settled there had she wanted to keep plans to potentially kill an entire multiverse a complete secret from nosy critters.

The question was: what to do next? Lanny realized there was nothing else to look for if she had reached her destination.

She was not about to waltz straight into that cave. She was stubborn, she would admit that, but not even she would do such a thing. It could be a death sentence. Out there, she could look out for any threats and have more than enough room to defend herself, but she doubted that cave would be large enough for her to detect any unwanted presence before it was too late to do so.

"Unn."

The bird was quick to respond to the call, as usual. He flew to Lanny's hand and observed what she was so focused on, though not with as much worry and anticipation as the elf. Sometimes, she wished she could be as oblivious as his limited conscience allowed him to be.

She did not want to send Unn in and have him find any trap beforehand, either. She could hold her ground against many things, even in such a restricted space, but he was just a bird that knew no better. If he were to check the perimeter, he might not make it back. There was no need to sacrifice a lifelong friend like that.

That was when the dilemma started.

Lanny hated mental dilemmas like that. Her whole goal had been to find where Quetzalcoatl could be residing, confront him, figure out what was happening, try and find the two skeletons he had taken and maybe, just maybe, set them free — she was very aware of the hazards that could be waiting in her way, but the way she’d painted the scene had worked well enough in her mind.

She was finally where she’d wanted to be, and she didn’t know how to proceed.

Not to mention, if Ink and Dream were anywhere, or Dream, at least, they had to be in that cave, and that was one of the bigger problems. The leaves, placed the way they were, and where they were, sparked suspicions. She wasn’t one to believe in coincidences, and that certainly did not look like one. It could be bait. Trying to lure her or whoever else could have tried to find the skeletons or the guardian that tormented them into the cavern that held their fate.

Or perhaps she was worrying too much for her own good and Quetzalcoatl wasn’t even there. Perhaps her intuition had failed and those leaves were not from the Tree of Life, just leaves brought there by some gust of wind that could’ve snaked its way into the Underground and swept them into a nice circle. Perhaps that was just one more mountain in an area filled with natural landforms and there was no threat.

But she was risking too much by being as bold and curious as she had been until she came across that place.

She should just listen to Nim. She trusted her not to do anything stupid, and to keep going was straight up idiotic. Nim was going through a tough time and there no need to upset her more by putting her own life on the line after the countless warnings she had given her. She understood why she had been holding back her urges to find Quetzalcoatl. It would never play out the way she expected it to.

…she could always come back another day. She knew where that place was; her memory could hold the path for a few days. If she wanted to attack the problem from the core, doing so alone would be a suicidal idea, and she had only just realized how crazy she would have to be to do so. She would be more prepared for the unexpected if she waited, and with reliable backup. It would be much better if people actually knew what they should watch out for.

Her mind could be as opinionated as it desired; she was not going in. If anything, she would have one last look around to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, and she would tell everyone what she had potentially found. That was a thought that played well.

But moments before Lanny could will herself to turn around and go, disappointed as she was, Unn perked up. She had seen that reaction from him other times. His head tilting several times, his eyes fixated on a specific point — the mountain, in that case, — his tail flicking… It was what he always did when he saw or heard something nobody else around him could, something that either really interested him or he considered an imminent threat, and the elf was ready for an unwanted surprise the moment she saw him crane his neck.

She had feared he would do that at some point.

Before she could find the reason behind his raised alerts, however, he flew off in the direction of the cave, too fast for her to grab hold of him.

"Hey, wait a– Unn, where are you  _going_?"

For the first time in forever, Unn did not listen to her, even in spite of her dismay. He flew around the mountain — fortunately not into the cave, — threatening to disappear behind the lush bushes that embraced its sides, and she was forced to go after him, ignoring the bad presage the mountain in its entirety gave her. She was not going to lose him. She refused.

She kept calling out for him in hopes he would stop before she would lose track of him, before he would get any closer to that ominous landform, but the quetzal, breaking character, was not budging nor coming back, and she, in fact, lost track of him as he rounded the mountain.

Hurrying more so, Lanny slapped away the intrusive leaves of bushes and ferns that stood in her way, where his feathers had camouflaged him in his haste, hoping to still see him flying away in the same straight line he had been maintaining, but the bird was nowhere to be seen and she halted with her heart on her throat.

Said heart skipped a beat.

"…Unn?!"

Another.

Moments before panic could strike, though, she heard the telltale, soft calls of the bird she considered her best friend to her left, and she snapped her gaze in that direction. She just hoped he had found something even more interesting than blood or leaves in exchange for darting into uncharted territory like that, but she wouldn’t hold off a reprimand for it.

And he had found something, indeed. It was both something interesting and a threat. It was not what she had expected.  _Who_  she had expected. Lanny found herself still as the water from the puddles.

Several feet away, Quetzalcoatl was sitting by a lake she had not seen before there, hidden by the shrubbery. His back was turned to her, and he didn’t seem to have noticed her; and if he did, he did a great job at ignoring her presence, even though there was no way he couldn’t have heard her. Staff in hand, the bird rested on the glowing crystal atop, not threatened by the guardian and instead quite content with the company. Lanny didn’t know how he had figured Quetzalcoatl was there or why he’d been so eager to join him. It unnerved her.

For a moment that lingered on for far too long, Lanny was frozen at a loss of ideas, standing still with her mind trying without success to process what was happening, her eyes darting to her left and right in involuntary movements looking out for any other threat. She had unmistakably found what and who she was looking for and there was no more denying it, and yet it still was not the same feeling she figured it would be. The anger and resolve that had driven her to find that place had dissipated earlier, but by then they were completely gone.

Instead, she was afraid. She really was not supposed to be there. Not alone.

"At least you kept your word."

Lanny had gone deep into her mind for only a second in search for clues and hints, so deep that even the quiet, collected voice of the guardian made her flinch as though Quetzalcoatl had screamed at her, and the looming silence was not helping. Despite the threat he could pose to her, her eyes were firmly planted on Unn whenever they weren’t looking out for Nightmare and Kamea who surely wouldn't be too far away if Quetzalcoatl was there, and especially if that was his hideout; if he  _dared_  touch him...

She should have never brought him with her, even with the help he could give. It was thanks to him that she had found what she had been so eager to see with her own eyes, but it was not enough. He was a bird that could understand many things other animals of such mental capabilities couldn't, but he did not yet understand that was not the same, sane Quetzalcoatl that once gave him the gift of life. She could have gotten him killed for no reason. She still could, if she wasn’t careful.

"I knew you would grow too attached to him." Quetzalcoatl looked at the bird, and she tensed. The black, beady eyes of the resplendent quetzal watched back, curious, at ease. There was something about the guardian’s voice that gave her goosebumps. It was not hostile, pretending to be humble, and yet there was an unbreathable cloud of danger surrounding it. "Beautiful creature, he is."

There was no going back now, not just yet, so Lanny stood where she was, magic flowing through her veins in case things derailed too quickly. She had to expect the unexpected; she was going nowhere without Unn, especially not if that meant leaving him with Quetzalcoatl of all people.

But she didn't say anything. She didn't have the words.

"So..."

Quetzalcoatl stood up, slowly, and she tensed yet again, and she hated having to react that way when it dawned on her. They were supposed to be friends, a family. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of someone who was like her. Things were not supposed to go wrong with them. They were supposed to keep everything in line, to protect themselves and one another, to discover the world. Such scene should never be carried out.

Unn did not fly off despite his balance wavering for a moment. Lanny knew her nerves had become porcelain, especially with his life on the line. Any sudden move, and she would snap whether she liked it or not. She had to be ready, for anything.

"What brings you here? You are quite far from home."

As much as it irritated the elf, no words would come out of her mouth. What was the question, really? Would any be answered? She had so many things to say and ask, so many things to scream out, but she knew how secretive Quetzalcoatl could be. He had always been, be it with good or bad intentions, be it a game or not. Very few things were ever direct when it came to him, and she could just be wasting her time, letting herself be distracted.

"No, don't tell me. You wanted to show me how angered you are, right?"

The older guardian turned to look at her, a quizzical smile on his lips. His eyes had an eerie glow in the general darkness of a Waterfall without luminous crystals, making him appear like a looming shadow. The light the glowing crystal of the scepter casted on his side only made him more ominous.

"Or, perhaps you wanted to find out where your dear skeletons friends are by force?"

Still no answer, despite those being her questions. Her main questions, only. Lanny was raided by an awfully bad feeling as she stared the other guardian down, to the point where she believed Nightmare had to be around close enough to cause it. That thought was not doing much to help, but she couldn’t ignore it. That would be the very last thing she needed.

"No? Maybe you wanted to ask the typical clichéd questions: what do you want, why are you doing this, what happened to you... Maybe you are not even here for questions, but to pay a visit to an old friend. Mh?"

Lanny narrowed her eyes at the friendly tone that made her skin crawl, to which Quetzalcoatl frowned.

"Not even that? What a shame. Well, at least your companion seems more grateful."

Unn chirped in response, still oblivious to the danger he could be in and unaware of how nervous he was making Lanny.

"It was to be expected from a pure being, after all."

Much to her relief, he let the resplendent quetzal fly back to Lanny, a swift landing on her hand. That was only one less thing to be worried about, and by then it would be sensible to teleport out of there, but somehow, her mind was not focused on that. She was not sure what she was focused on anymore. She just wished for clarity.

"Where are they." were the first words the elf brought herself to utter since she came face to face with who she was unexpectedly looking for, and they left a bitter taste on her tongue. It was not a question, though no matter how much she could demand, she was certain prying any kind of answer from the other guardian would be trickier than that.

"Somewhere, of course." She did not find a speck of humor in Quetzalcoatl's answer. "Why would you ever think I would tell you? There is no fun in revealing secrets. Such urgency for trivial things is unhealthy for the mind."

The contrast between the guardian that had taught her everything she knew and motivated her to do the things she could do and that wandering lunatic hurt her heart as much as it made her blood boil. She was being talked to, regarded with about as much respect as one would give a pestering insect, and that was not bringing her patience back.

"I swear, if you did something to them..."

Her wings started to glow more and more each second as her anger accumulated, as her magic grew, a disparity against the general lack of light and the soft flicker of the blue glow inside the scepter's crystal.

Quetzalcoatl only continued to smile, a smirk she was beginning to hate like she had never hated anything else before in her many years of life — and death, — because she had seen him smile many times before, at her, at Nim, at the growing world around them, and they had been smiles of trust and peace and not of malice or ill intentions masked by poisonous kindness made to lure. "I did not. The darker of the siblings, however, he might have by now..."  

Lanny gritted her teeth, the thumping of her heart the only thing audible among the unwavering quiet that stalked them. Aside from the fact that he had proved he also had Ink, the mere thought of he and Dream suffering at the hands of Nightmare again made her want to snap, to _show_ Quetzalcoatl just what she thought of those new morals he had foolishly replaced his own with. It was not fair. They did not deserve that. Nobody did. Especially not because a frustrated being abusing his power wanted it to happen.

She had once met a wise and savvy guardian, and in spite of everything, she had hoped to meet him again. That was not him.

"But come on now, is that all you care about? Look at you, so emotional..."

Quetzalcoatl made his way around them in the general direction of the cave, his pace painfully slow, the staff dragging against the ground to scratch and claw at the unforgiving silence. Lanny watched him intently, and even Unn seemed to have noticed something was not quite right as he climbed up the elf's arm to nestle in her shoulder again. Lanny didn't know if Quetzalcoatl would have it in him to harm her, or kill her, but at that point, she could expect anything from him.

"Are you not going to ask where I've been? How I've been? What have I been doing all this time? Nothing to reaffirm our unbreakable bond? I kept wondering what you were doing without me after all these years. I was hoping you would, too."

Lanny kept her eyes narrowed. Once again, she responded with irate silence. She had, indeed, been wondering where a shrewd guardian who had helped her discover many things had gone, and how he had been doing since the multiverse incident. That, still, was not him.

Quetzalcoatl hummed. She could’ve sworn he was offended. "At least one of us cares."

"Why did you have to take them?" The quietness around them was so profuse that even her voice, low as it was, pierced through everything like a bullet, and Lanny would have believed she was screaming instead. She wanted to. "Why now? What have _they_ ever done to you?”

Quetzalcoatl stopped. He stopped for what seemed like too long, not making any attempt to look at her as he regarded his choices, and she saw it in his eyes, she saw the flicker of vexation, the same that raided hers as she burned through and past his cold soul. She saw many things, but that was the first to come across her sight. He had only ever radiated peace, kindness. It felt like another person altogether, even more distant than a polar opposite.

Quetzalcoatl watched the lake instead, not granting her eye contact. The persistent smile, she’d noticed, was gone. "You should not have come here."

Lanny took a step back, waves of trepidation frigid as the night gnawing at her skin, trying to make her veer toward the right decision. She had Unn with her. She knew where that place was. It would be reasonable to leave while she still could, and act quickly. Her temper and disbelief, however, were getting the best of her. "Are you threatening me?"

"I don't want to."

When Quetzalcoatl gave her a side-glance, she saw even more emotions in his piercing eyes she had never seen before and would have never imagined to see in him, strengthened by their soft glow in the darkness. There was anger, vexation, exasperation. It was hatred. Hatred trying to keep itself contained, but flaring up like a vivid inferno in doing so.

They were not those gentle eyes that had regarded her as kin and made her feel safe. They made her want to cower, to cry.

"But if you don't decide to mind your own business for once in your insipid life, I might have to stop being lenient with you."

Lanny still did not move when Quetzalcoatl turned around to face her, unknowing of what to do or what to feel. She would have never expected such amount of sorrow to rain over her the moment she'd decided to face Quetzalcoatl. She had expected anger, confusion. But not so much sorrow. She was only realizing how much she missed the guardian of life she had met so long ago. How much she wanted to see him again. How many stories she wanted to share.

" _Go_." Quetzalcoatl swept the scepter to the side in one sharp movement that almost made Lanny flinch. She still hated how her mind led her to believe it could have been an attack, because she did not want to get to that point. She did not want to fight him. She did not want to hate him. She did not want him to hate her, to hate anything that moved. She wanted to know what was wrong. She wanted to help. To pull that spiteful mask off of him.

She was playing with his patience, she knew, and it was the most dangerous game she had ever been involved on. The rope was breaking, slowly, but surely. She wasn't willing to see the consequences of it, but she found her feet were glued to the ground, motionless as she stared at what once was...

...a friend, a teacher, almost like the parent she never had. The things he had taught her, the things he had given her, the things he had shown her, he no longer seemed to care when up to that day she still valued them like a treasure locked in her heart. He looked down to her like a bother, a fly that would be better off dead. They seemed so distant, but she held on to those memories with both hands and had no intentions of letting go.

Quetzalcoatl seemed to have ripped them to pieces like scribbled papers of no value.

"…who…  _are_  you?"

The anger she had come there with and had been planning to unleash for quite a long time had been doused, and not even fear dared to stay around. There was only room for longing. For disappointment. For rue. She saw nothing but an important figure in her life vanishing right before her eyes, and it crushed the heart that had been raging and then panicking just minutes earlier.

She understood she had no saying in what Quetzalcoatl had chosen. There was a chance she would never understand what had led him to that point. But that did not mean she wanted it to happen, or would let it happen. There was a reason for everything. There always was. Quetzalcoatl himself had told her that, once. Surely he had to have reasons of his own.

She saw a flicker of hope, the smallest of flickers, when the other guardian’s exasperated pupils, shaped like slits, the ones that had stared at her with vain attempts to intimidate her faith, softened, dilated ever so slightly. She could still remember the first time she had seen him. How wide those pupils were, full of curiosity and intrigue.

The silence was immaculate for a moment; not even Unn would make the quietest of noises. That moment became an eternity.

"…who are  _you_?"

The words were laced with disdain, tearing at her, at her aching heart, tearing her hope apart, but it remained firm. She could still hear that indignation, indignation that shouldn't be there, and that urged her to stay when anybody else would have taken their chance to flee. She didn’t understand.

"Who are you to repay me like you did?"

Lanny blinked once, twice, a rapid succession of confusion. There was intent on that accusation, hateful intent that had been forged for years and that did not hesitate to display its intensity, and Lanny could not decipher why that was there or where it had come from, if anywhere at all. Everything, from Quetzalcoatl's reaction to her presence to her own thoughts and feelings, was catching her off-guard. "…what are you talking ab–"

"No." She was cut off immediately, her puzzlement left hanging in the air without hope. The other guardian's heterochromatic gaze was still boring into her, daring her to keep speaking, to keep wondering. "There is no room now to discuss something you have never acknowledged. _Leave_."

And still, Lanny could not move from where she stood, chained in place by perplexity. She knew it would not let go until she convinced Quetzalcoatl to elaborate, but that didn't seem like a possibility at the moment. It worried her, more than anything. Perhaps there was something she could do that did not involve the rise of another problem.

She had to help. She had to do something. Everyone made mistakes and she would acknowledge hers if she had ever done anything to upset Quetzalcoatl, but there was nothing she could do in the matter if she was forced to remain as clueless as she was.

"Not until you tell me what I've done wrong."

The guardian of life froze. He looked at her with incredulity, pupils wide but displaying, not intrigue, but the most bitter kind of incredulity. And then he laughed. It was a small, disbelieved snicker, at first, one that ended in a chortle of equal disbelief. She had heard him laugh many times in the past. He had never sounded so psychotic. "'What I've done wrong', she says..."

Quetzalcoatl sighed the remains of the laughter away. "Lanny, I am someone patient. Too much, perhaps. And you know that. I am because not even I want to see myself upset. I can control that patience and watch you leave, no harm done. You may tell whoever you'd like about your discoveries. You are free to do so. Free to do whatever you please, as long as you step away from this place."

The smile disappeared again, and Lanny would not be lying if she said no one in the entire, vast multiverse, no matter which, would ever frighten her more than the way he looked at her.

"But if you continue prying in, I'm afraid your little expedition might not end as well as you'd have foreseen. You have a lot of time in your hands, young guardian. Find a better moment to be stubborn. You have gotten away with it many times, but this once, you will _not_."

And uttering not one more word, Quetzalcoatl walked away, leaving only the threat for Lanny to analyze and choose from, and she was not about to accept that. Having in mind he was making his way toward the cave she had seen in the mountain, she turned to face him as he left her inquiries abandoned. Their conversation was not over. Her initial intentions might not have been to talk sense into him, but she was willing to do it. She had to let him know there was no need to behave like sworn enemies.

"How am I supposed to leave when you–"

She never got to finish. The movement was quick, but her reflexes, thank everything, were just as. With the crystal of the staff glowing with enough intensity to blind, Quetzalcoatl whirled around the moment she opened her mouth. A loose boulder was ripped straight off the mountain, held by a string of light emanating from the crescent moon, and hurdled at her.

Missing had not been his intention, and Lanny acknowledged so with terror. It rebounded from where she had stood seconds before she was forced to roll out of its way, sinking into the lake which seemed surprisingly deep, engulfing it whole. Water splashing was the only sound left in the air, but Lanny heard the wild thumping of her heart in her chest trying to break free like it was trying its best to deafen her.

She couldn't let out a sigh of relief when Unn landed back on her arm, too busy trying to breathe through the haze of fear and tension that clouded her as she panned her disbelieved, shrunken gaze from the ripples in the water to the other guardian. Through the corner of her eyes, she saw the small feathers Unn had left behind in his panicked flight away from death, and she was _not_ letting him stay with her one more second.

If she could find her voice, she would shriek at him to get out of there.

Lanny could barely begin to describe the amount of hatred that glowed in the eyes of the older guardian as they burned through her, deep into her soul, her panicked heart, a glare that would give Nightmare in his worse of moods a run for his money. Both eyes had a haze red like fresh blood seeping over their respective colors. In plain words, Quetzalcoatl looked like a demon.

" _I am not in the mood for games_."

Each word was slow like a stalking predator, intense like their eyes as they zeroed in on their prey, filled with rage like their intent to kill. Lanny would have perhaps listened to what would be common sense had her inner urge to defend not been set aflame.

Guardians never fled. It was a psychological thing, something they couldn’t quite control. Aside from rationality, sometimes an instinct to protect and defend took over them. When faced by fear and anger, they erased escaping from their minds; it was a fight or flight response, where such thing as flight was nonexistent. It did not matter if they were no longer connected to their Trees. It did not matter if they were nowhere near the Trees. Their minds were clear, but when they were attacked, there was no time to run, only to defend.

And Lanny would defend herself.

"What is wrong with you?!" she bellowed, wings glowing crimson with enough force to serve as a replacement sun as she reciprocated the attack without second thoughts. From her hand came a sphere of energy that she never hesitated to aim at the other guardian, but that never hit its target much like the rock left to drown in the lake.

Wasting no more time, she shrieked at Unn to leave, to go back to the village, and even he could grasp the urgency and scramble back where he had come from with a long call of distress as the fiery sphere exploded against the walls of the mountain, sending dust and smoke and charred rocks flying in every direction. Quetzalcoatl had gotten lost within the column of smoke, and all Lanny knew was that she hadn't hit him.

A wave of regret shot through her for only a second, the only second she had. She shouldn’t engage him. She did not want to. She should just go. But grief was holding her there, and so was her inner instinct to fight.

She was not stupid enough to stand where she was while the other was stalking through the smoke. Moments after she jumped back, she'd seen the ominous glow of the staff and the furious red of his eyes as Quetzalcoatl charged forward, the sickle crystal inches away from earning Lanny a scar she would not forget anytime soon. It swung down, but didn’t hit anything other than the ground.

The fight did not progress from there, cut short in a tense but thankful stalemate as the dust and agitation cleared up. Both guardians acknowledged how powerful they could be when protecting their lives. Both knew better than to go ballistic at one another, and those had only been threats, displays of power.

Lanny took that chance to take a couple of steps away, keeping her distance, feeling her legs quiver. She was aware her powers would still not react to the request of teleporting away, locked in the need to fight back. They wouldn't until she calmed down, and that was the one thing she couldn't do. Not with Quetzalcoatl was volatile as he was.

He pried the staff from where the crystal had dug into the earth with the desire of catching flesh instead of mud, the red taking over his eyes softer but not yet gone. He spared a glance behind him; bits and pieces of rock were still dripping down the hole left in the mountain, witness of what could have been a much worse outcome.

A smirk pulled at his lips. "I taught you well."

Lanny scorned at him, more than ready to continue fighting if she had to. She had a feeling Quetzalcoatl was intentionally triggering her impulses to counter so that her only chance to get out of there would be by running away, and she was _not_ turning her back to him as unstable as he was. Her life could be at risk, and she would do whatever it took to keep it and announce her findings.

She had been stupid. She just wished she could still make up to it, preferably unscathed.

"Why are you doing this." she said between gritted teeth, again a demand instead of a question. Magic was flowing through her hands in a constant flux. There was no way she was letting her guard down, even as Quetzalcoatl seemed to allow himself to regain his composure.

"Again with the clichéd questions..." he muttered, avoiding her demands once again and deepening her scowl. "I thought you would be more interesting than that."

" _Answer_ ," Lanny growled, clear sparks waiting at her fingertips. She was hurt inside. She was seething on the outside. She was making her best attempt at focusing on figuring out why their peace had been so shamelessly ripped to shreds, but she could not and would not get over the fact that someone she had once called her best friend and had looked up to like he was her entire world had tried to kill her without any other word.

Surely a mere rock would have done nothing to a being like her, but it was the intention that counted. Quetzalcoatl would not have felt sorry for hurting or even killing her, and she would even say he was inwardly enjoying the conflict if he had gone from enraged to passive with such ease. It made her skin crawl again.

That was not the guardian she knew, on the slightest.

Or perhaps she had never known him at all.

The past and present didn’t connect.

"That temper will get you nowhere." Lanny was seconds away from countering once more the moment Quetzalcoatl took a step, making to circle her. "If anything, it might get you killed."

She knew, to a certain extent, what kind of powers Quetzalcoatl had. She had never seen him fight, however, or use them in any manner other than for display. That was why his speed took her aback — one second he was a safe distance from her, the next they were inches apart, and the sharp crystal of the staff was going for another, better aimed try.

Lanny hadn't fought many times in her life, and she was surprised she even managed to dodge that, a small burst of lightning emerging from her digits as she leapt away from the crystal aiming at her heart. It was a rushed and unplanned attack by her side, and while it was enough to force Quetzalcoatl back, it was not to stop the diagonal sweep of the staff which instead collided against her wings, shattering them like mere windows of frail glass.

She glanced at them as she stumbled back, lower one gone and upper one split in half, devoid of the furious crimson light that gave them life and instead dull and non-functional, and that was, she would learn later, her third biggest mistake that day aside from venturing there alone and not heeding to the other guardian's clear warnings thanks to the grief that had taken over her.

It was one of the prices to pay for being the youngest and least experienced on defense of the three. Quetzalcoatl surpassed her physical and mental age by a margin of millions and millions of years, and had seen and experienced more things than she would ever wish to. She should have seen defeat coming, but it wasn't like she had any other choice given that she couldn't teleport away from there until her nerves decided to settle down — which would not be happening anytime soon, if Quetzalcoatl continued to threaten her.

A pulse of cyan light rushed toward her, knocking the wind out of her as it collided against her chest and sent her flying back. It hurt, more than anything had ever done so, but not enough to keep her down for much longer; a scuffle had become a fight for her life, and she was not about to lose.

"You are in no position to win."

Lanny snapped her gaze toward Quetzalcoatl, attempting to hide her pain for reasons not even she knew. She kept an arm clutching her abdomen where the pulse of light had struck while the other hand clenched in a fist, all her lingering power awaiting panicked release. She was trying her best not to worsen the situation, not to let anger take over again, but it was not proving to be an easy task.

"The effort is nice, but you should not waste your strength so foolishly."

"What have I ever done to you?!" It was her confused rage taking over, but Lanny allowed it in its verbal phase. She wondered if Quetzalcoatl realized nobody had any idea why he would do the things he was doing, no matter if they knew him or not. The last time she had personally seen him, he had not looked too happy about her presence, but to that day she had always dismissed it as him on a bad mood. The apparent hatred he held toward every living being that coexisted with him in that world had come out of nowhere. Nothing he did or said made sense, not when connected to the past.

But once more, her questions were not answered with the response she wanted to hear, and Quetzalcoatl was not calming down anymore. "It still is too soon for you to understand that. Your impatience does not deserve any reward. Neither does your ignorance."

There was a pause.

"I'm doing this for the sake of protecting this stolen world."

And then, Lanny snapped. Her mind flared, her eyes widened, the ire she still carried with herself sizzled. She forgot about her attempts to help, about the memories she wanted the other guardian to remember alongside her if he hadn’t torn them out of his mind by then.

Quetzalcoatl had created a callous madman for the sole purpose of killing Nim and forcing the existence of Dream and Nightmare without being seen as the culprit for years to come. He had watched the destruction of countless universes that had lived in peace, making everybody believe they were finally safe and at rest. He had threatened all those people that had already gone through hell. He ruined the life of a being that repented all he had been forced to do in the past. He was putting the innocent through barbarities she didn't even want to imagine for reasons that probably made about as much sense as anything she'd vaguely heard from him. He was willing to hurt who he had once made feel like a friend.

And he had the _audacity_ to say he was protecting the world, after carrying on the genocidal idea of ruining the lives of people who had never met him or even knew he existed just when they believed they had achieved peace after their undeserved punishments?

To say she was offended, hurt, betrayed, furious, would be the biggest understatement of all. She didn’t know who she was speaking to. That was not the guardian of life she knew. And if who she knew had been a hoax, then that maniac had no right to be called a guardian, but a devil.

"The only thing you are protecting..."

Lanny never realized how much her clenched fist was shaking, how much the haze around it was glowing, how she could hear her own knuckles, fingers, cracking at the pressure. She could only think of the grief she had gone through in life as she watched everything die, and how it could happen again, and how it was all because someone who was not any friend of hers thought he was in the right.

She, too, could be very opinionated.

And peace was over.

"... _is your own insanity_!"

Lanny raised her hand and brought it down with enough force for her to believe she would have ripped it straight from its socket. The accumulation of magic that had lingered in her hand erupted into the ground beneath her feet with the force of her unleashed anger, drilling its way through the earth, shooting crystals and lightning and sparks and beams right out of the ground at an alarming speed.

Coincidentally, shaping her magic into the solid shape of crystals had been something Quetzalcoatl had taught her, too. Something she had appreciated so much. Something she had only used for good, for her own or for others’.

She was still using it for good.

Even Quetzalcoatl knew he wouldn't have enough time to bother dodging the rabid barrage, especially considering how wide the crystals spread. Instead, he brought the staff down to create a shield of cyan light that repelled the infuriated onslaught — partially.

It had enough force to push him back, and the forcefield materialized just a second too late to stop one of the smaller crystals, which dug into his side and elicited a grunt from him.

Not bad.

With a snarl that showed many other sharp teeth in company of the protruding fangs, Quetzalcoatl looked back up at Lanny, eyes again a fiery red, as she tried to launch herself into the air. Her powers were wavering from exhaustion caused by inexperience, and an awful ache lingered in her abdomen, but she could pull through minor inconvenienced like those. It wasn't working much, but she merely wanted a better angle.

To show her indignation.

To show how much she had been hurt inside.

"You are not protecting anything, you are destroying everything we made  _together_!"

She stressed out that last word as much as she could as she sent down another sphere of energy, larger than the last. An inhuman, almost animalistic hiss escaped from Quetzalcoatl as he raised the staff, a burst of light shattering the forcefield and the barrage of crystals Lanny had left behind. The burst of wind and sharp fragments of solid magic that bit at her arms and face helped knocking her from the air, and the energy ball never hit its target as the other guardian jumped out of its way.

Again, there was a stalemate, with the promise of worsening, but neither guardian continued attacking and they took that moment to catch their breaths. Quetzalcoatl would not stop glowering, all sharp teeth visible; Lanny felt herself at the edge of tears, but held it.

"I _never_ asked for your help." Quetzalcoatl growled, glaring daggers of fire into the guardian of magic, ignoring the blood trickling down the gash on his side. "You never helped. You _forced_ me to do this. _You_ are destroying everything _I_ made."

"We didn't do anything!" Lanny shouted, every bit and piece of her resentment participating. "Do you _hear_ yourself? We would have never done anything to you! And whatever we _did_ do, it certainly isn’t enough for you to–"

" _Silence_."

The elf went quiet with a flinch, and kept herself at the ready. Not willingly, still. She didn't want to keep fighting. She would have never wanted to get to that point. Whatever they had done, they were unaware, and if Quetzalcoatl was not letting his motives free, there was not much they could do aside from treating him the way he was treating them.

"I trusted you. I taught you all I knew, I made you who you are, and yet you took everything away from me.” Quetzalcoatl held the staff with enough force to snap it in two. Strange emotions surged through Lanny as she watched the wound on the other guardian, her own cuts on her arms and cheeks. It seemed surreal. “But I will take it back, even if it's the last thing I do."

“Do you _realize_ what you’re doing?!” she shrieked, hoping he would just listen, for _once,_ but it was yet another vain hope as Quetzalcoatl sent another pulse of light from his staff. Lanny tried to take off again to dodge it, mustering as much power as he could to keep herself in the air, but she had grown tired. She had never used so much magic in her life, and the lack of experience affected her strength and endurance.

She didn’t know if Quetzalcoatl was smiling or baring his teeth like an enraged jaguar. “…do _you_?”

It took her perhaps less than a second to summon another pulse of magic in her hand, perhaps a bad idea considering the amount of energy that was going into her hovering in order to have a chance to escape, but she had to get out of there. She didn’t want to kill Quetzalcoatl, she didn’t want him to kill her. She didn’t want any of the two to be wounded any further. She didn’t want to keep tilting the balance.

Less than a second was the time needed for Quetzalcoatl to reach out for a feather, and throw it before the elf could even aim at him.

Undeterred as it cut through the air at vertiginous speed, it embedded itself into her neck. Nothing happened aside from the expected sting as the quill pierced through skin, though it was enough to make Lanny throw the forming energy in her hand elsewhere. She hadn’t seen that coming.

It exploded behind the guardian of life, again the walls of the mountain taking the punishment. Focused on plucking the feather off, Lanny again was forced to land, and she knew floating would not be an option if she wanted to flee.

Then the pain began. It spread like an implosion, leaving the elf no choice but to clutch the affected side of her neck with a wail she had tried her best to suppress. The feather had injected something into her; she could feel it flowing through her veins, messing with the magic within. It was immediate agony, lava flowing throughout her body.

That was not the kind of venom used to put people to sleep. She still remembered what that had felt like; a soft sting that never stopped itching until a feeling of heaviness took over and everything became black. That was regular venom, or perhaps something worse, given the intensity the fight had taken. She could only assume that.

 _If_ she could assume anything. If she could think at all.

She couldn't. Everything was pain, pain that weighed her down and tugged at her and gnawed at every fiber in her body and drilled her skull until she collapsed to her knees when her legs gave out, the tears of sorrow she had been holding back coming out as tears of torment. She didn't know where it was coming from, where it started and where it ended, all she knew was that she couldn't take it and couldn't breathe, like the air around her was made of smoke, unbreathable, trying to contaminate her lungs.

Quetzalcoatl only watched her collapse, helpless, but did not continue attacking. In a way, it was strange to see a guardian in such pitiful state, them being creatures that could undergo anything nature threw at them, any threat wishing to bring harm to the Trees. Funnily enough, the only thing that could make a guardian feel like a mere mortal was another guardian — the universe would have never foreseen that.

"Breathe," was the only thing he said, his eyes never losing that red haze, becoming no less devoid of mercy or morals. Lanny gave him a glare just as hateful even through the unreachable agony, her arms shaking and quivering as they struggled to support her weight. She couldn't do anything, couldn't move, couldn't summon even the smallest accumulations of energy.

For once in her life, she was _terrified_.

"I don't want to kill you, Lanny. Not… yet."

She could barely register the words anymore. She would have believed anyone who'd told her she was underwater, drowning. There was no margin to rest, to take a pure breath, to feel like every bone that held her wasn’t melting like victims to acid. 

"That would ruin all of this. I have been waiting for far too long. I crafted this whole plan just for you."

She couldn't bite back a whimper. The pain was only increasing, holding on to her with more and more strength she couldn't counter. She could feel the cold venom running along her blood and magic, making her feel frigid, making her shiver. Her fingers dug into the ground as she tried to escape into her mind, get away from the agony, but it followed her, ringing in her ears, wringing tears out of her. They fell along the droplets of blood from her wounds.

She just tried to breathe, difficult and painful as it was. She couldn't die there. She wasn't going to die there.

She didn't want to die.

She wanted to go back in time and smack herself for being so stupid. She should have never gone there alone and unprepared. She should have listened to Nim. _What had she been thinking?_

"You know I'm going to let you go."

She felt no relief.

“J– just answer me-“

"It's not my intention to end your life, and I cannot keep you like those mundane skeletons you care so much about.”

He was circling her, leisurely, ignoring her. The fear devouring her only increased when she coughed through her attempts to breathe, blood trickling down the corners of her mouth, joining the droplets of tears.

“But if I am to let you go, at least help me deliver a message to your clueless friends. For the inconvenience, right? It’s more fun that way. And fair. They did warn you, did they not?"

Even the mere thought of moving away brought a new wave of pain to keep her where she was, hapless, useless.

“W-we’re trying to help you… There’s no reason for you to do this…”

Quetzalcoatl stopped beside her, and through the corner of her eye she saw the crystal of the staff glowing. The pause was as sickening as the pain coursing through her.

"…perhaps now they will understand who they are playing with, thanks to you."

To think there was nothing for her to do other than brace for more pain made Lanny feel like the most pathetic creature in existence. She could scream and tear at her mind, scream and shriek at her limbs to move, but nothing aside from her fighting lungs and pounding heart responded without bringing more suffering, and there was nothing she could do to stop him when Quetzalcoatl raised the staff.

She closed her eyes, warm tears flowing through, stinging.

She heard... what she could only describe as a knife tearing flesh. A sound that only lasted a split second. Too close to her. But she didn't feel it. It wasn’t her flesh. It hadn’t been the sickle crystal of the scepter, giving her a scar to remember.

She heard hurried footsteps skid to a stop a few feet away, a heavy and pained grunt, a thud as something, or someone, fell to the ground.

She only felt the cold bites of the venom turning every second into one more second with scalding magma flourishing inside and outside her body, and whatever Quetzalcoatl was going to do, he didn't do it.

Still struggling to breathe, she opened her eyes.

It took her a moment to analyze the scene through the tears and the haze of fear and agony. She saw someone else, in front of her, back turned to her and breathing heavily. Human. Dressed in black and white. Kamea.

The dagger was in his hand. Dripping with red.

She stopped hearing the beating of her heart, even managed to ignore the agony as she turned her head to where Quetzalcoatl had stood with a burst of terror that weaned when she saw that he, in fact, was still there. He was struggling to his feet, grunting, his hand over the right side of his face and the other, still with the staff, holding him against the wall as he nearly collapsed into it.

Copious amounts of blood poured from the gash hidden by his hand. She could see it. He wasn't covering all of it. Couldn't. It went all the way from the bottom of his cheek to his forehead. It had barely missed his eye.

She froze the moment she processed what had happened, the pain consuming her forgotten, the air around her unneeded. She just watched, still as a statue.

His balance precarious, dazed, Quetzalcoatl pushed himself off the charred, mangled walls of the mountain, the other hand never leaving the wound pouring with red. His breathing was harsh through gritted fangs.

He only moved his bloodied hand away from the wound to grab one of the vials hanging from the scepter. The gash was deep. Very deep. The literal look of death was still present in his eyes, red as the blood that poured down the slash, as purple smoke enveloped him, and then he was gone with a frustrated snarl.

Kamea still hadn't moved from where he was.

…

_Why?_

His eyes, heterochromatic like the guardian's, wandered over to her, and that was when Lanny remembered the pain and her need to breathe and the inability to move, and she was at a mere human's mercy.

A human that could easily kill them, if he wanted to.

His gaze lingered. Lanny had only ever seen Kamea smirking, mocking those around him, but his expression was inscrutable. His eyes were intense, but there was nothing she could decipher from the way he stared at her askance. It was only then, with his head slightly turned, that she realized he, too, had a gash running down his neck, a slash that had torn through cloth, almost all the way down to his stomach. It was recent. Tiny droplets of blood made their way to the ground every once in a while.

It seemed like the result of a grudge. Kamea could have killed the guardian potentially responsible for that. But he did not.

He could have killed her too, stunned and wounded and tired as she was, but he ran off instead, disappearing into the bushes.

Lanny was left wondering and pondering and shivering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow, quetz got a 10000+ word chapter for himself and he didn't use any nahuatl. that's a world record! 
> 
> btw, in case anyone doesn't get the title, Helheim is pretty much the norse term for hell. and y'know, Lanny comes from norse mythology. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	28. In the Face of Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more it carried on, the more people would be affected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so, little filler chapter before we get to the bad stuff  
> yes, it's starting for good now. fasten those seatbelts.
> 
> can you believe i had 15 days to rest and only got one chapter done. man i'm way too lazy for my own good.

He didn't understand. No, it's not that he didn't understand: there was nothing to understand, and he knew, and that frustrated him and frightened him more than he already was.

He was still thinking about what had happened before they were hurled back into the cell by courtesy of Nightmare, or at least as much as the smothering cloud of apprehension consuming his very being allowed him to, and nothing made sense and they were in bigger trouble than he had imagined.

Ink hadn't quite expected nor wanted Error of all people to be the responsible for all the damage done to the walls of the cavern as those deranged Gaster Blasters were sent on a manic rampage in an attempt to get Nightmare and Kamea away from him — but the fact that Error was not on their side put him and Dream on edge and left their minds begging for answers, not showing signs of stopping anytime soon.

The one thing that had really thrown him off had been Error's reason to fight. Ink had expected to come across a fierce and enraged Error destroying everything in his path for no reason whatsoever other than his own will to do so just because he could, but that hadn't been the outcome; far from it. Instead of seeing a manic grin, of hearing a fearsome laughter, he saw fear in all senses of the word etched in every bit and piece of the glitched skeleton. Error had been acting out of pure self-defense, trying his hardest to get away from the imminent threats he apparently wanted nothing to do with.

He had not thrown himself into a fight because he wanted to, or because he had been engaged. He had been as afraid and disconcerted as Ink had been when he'd nearly killed him, which was what the artist really did not understand about the commotion they did not manage to get any background on. It didn't make any sense to him. Surely Nightmare was a worthy opponent, but he had never seen Error so distressed, so desperate to get out of any situation.

Error was still afraid and disconcerted in that cell, with them, separated only by another set of dark bars confining him to a claustrophobic space at the opposite end of the hollow.

Ink knew there was nothing he could do before that Error couldn't still do, and he felt his hypothetical heart beating with as much dread as it had started to when Nightmare had hurled the accursed glitch into the cell with them instead of taking him elsewhere. The fact that he was tired, somewhat scathed from the altercation and losing against somnolence was not a valid reason for Ink to calm down, because, bars or not, Error was only within a few feet from him, and he doubted the solid darkness keeping them away from freedom would be enough to stop Error should he choose to go rabid again.

Even Nightmare had had trouble keeping him in place; the artist's eyes had been unblinking as he'd watched the melting skeleton _struggling_  to keep a stable hold on the strings Error had shot at him with the wavering tendrils on his back so as to keep him from getting away while the glitch tried to aim at Kamea before the human got too close. Ink hadn't been looking forward to being reminded of Error's strength, but he had been, and his nerves had decided to keep him tense at all times.

The worst part was that they had been left there with the threat that 'the fun would begin soon', accompanied by a smile from Nightmare that inspired about as much friendliness as a raging inferno, and had been for a while. Quetzalcoatl had taken Kamea away from there the moment he'd come in and cut the fight short with only a feather to bring Error to the realm of sleep, then ordered Nightmare to take the three skeletons back to the cell — Dream was still not taking lightly to the fact that  _Nightmare_  was  _taking orders_  from somebody, — and then he too was gone, leaving them to their luck until they returned from wherever they had gone in such a haste.

The guardian of life hadn't looked too happy after deflecting Error's outburst, with anyone, and Kamea had definitely gotten on his nerves some time before if the glower he'd given him before storming off had been any hint. His worsening mood and the fact that he would be back, and not to have a nice talk, was the main reason for Dream's nervousness as he waited for the inevitable with nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, and not the belligerent skeleton confined right next to him.

Ink didn't understand why he wasn't worried about Error. He was still under the remaining effects of the poison, sure, but he was very well awake. He couldn't even  _look_  at him in fear the next time he did Error wouldn't be staring off into nothing and instead would be glowering and grinning at him.

"You're shaking."

Dream's blunt comment caught him off-guard, and he gave the other skeleton an incredulous look, thankful that he partially blocked Error from his sight. Error wasn't supposed to know he was afraid. He had nearly died because he had shown he was afraid. Dream was blowing the whistle on him when that deranged skeleton could see and hear everything and he was not going through that again.

"Are you implying something?"

Ink's reply was just as blunt, albeit more tremulous. Error was no joke. He had made Dream suffer too. He didn't know where that reaction was coming from, or why Dream was taking it so well. He could not fathom why he was so accepting of the situation they had been forced into.

"It's like you think I'm afraid." the artist blurted, right before Dream could say anything in response. "Because I'm not."

Ink crossed his arms, pulled his legs close to his chest as he sulked; that way, he almost didn't look like a trembling mess, though his eyes were giving many hints away against his will, acting seemingly with a mind on their own. He couldn't help it. He couldn't help the unnatural cold that seeped over his bones, the bad presage Error's presence radiated. He was sure they had left him there with them so that they would have been torn to pieces by the time they returned.

Dream didn't say anything else, despite having been cut off. Instead, idle, he watched Ink, and the artist recognized that expression. It was always present when he'd belittle Error for existing. It was that overwhelming concern that never did him any good.

It was more profuse that time, however.

Instead of getting Ink to speak, however, Dream glanced at Error. He had huddled himself in the opposite corner, the effects of the poison wearing off but not enough for him to gain any will to get up or even look around. He looked so frightened, so small. It was not the deranged skeleton he had been so many years ago in life, nor the lost soul that had been wandering the afterlife until that moment. He was one more monster, reacting like anybody else would after being kidnapped, stressed out and locked up in a portion of a cell.

It was easy for Dream to tell that Error did not want to be there, and that he wasn't friends with any of the three maniacs and that anything he’d done had been against his will. Whatever had happened to Ink, it must have been something else. There must have been a reason for Error to have snapped, one that didn't involve his own choices.

He didn't see a killer. He didn't see someone who was off his mind. He saw someone who was frightened, lost and stressed and that needed help and reassurance and not to be given the cold shoulder for acting up. ‘

"...are you okay?"

Error knew the soft question was directed at him, but he didn't reply until several seconds settled in, his gaze kept on the ground. In the meantime, Ink snapped his own gaze toward Dream as though he were facing someone who had gone insane, which was exactly what he thought of Dream at the moment much to his dismay.

Why was he trying to talk to Error?

They weren't supposed to give him attention.

He would kill them.

_He was going to kill them._

**"...no."**

Error curled further into himself, narrowing his eyes. There was not only fear clouding him, but also sadness. He was completely disconcerted, devoid of any willpower or comprehension. His voice was so small, barely audible. It brought Dream to scoot closer.

Ink still thought he was crazy, and remained in his corner as far away from Error as possible.

"You're not with them…" Dream continued, remaining soft, understanding. It prompted the glitch to keep on listening to him, which was a good sign. "Are you?"

Error gave a microscopic shake of his head, taking his time to form words. During that time, brief as it might have been, Dream could see the brother he'd lost reflected on the glitched skeleton. His eyes, while not as gentle and endearing as those lavender dots he missed with heart and soul, were filled to the brim with yearning, searching for a place in a world he couldn't quite understand. The way he sat there, motionless, could only remind Dream of Nightmare doing the same, hiding away from the help he needed, brooding, distancing himself.

It was too late for Nightmare,  _again_ … but there was no reason to let Error go down that path as well, and especially not because someone forced him to.

**"they…"**

Dream knew straight away that there was something Error was not comfortable talking about, judging by the way he shifted. Whether it was anger, sadness or something else, he didn’t know, but he had experienced that same, grieving doubt far too many times, from himself and from others.

**"they have my brother."**

Dream blinked at the strained answer, any and all words he could have wanted to say fading as he watched Error move his gaze further down, pensive, distraught, holding back the anger that had somehow consumed him earlier before being replaced by desperation and then grief. Even Ink spared him a confused glance, and he had only just remembered that the negative-colored Papyrus and Undyne had been there as well in an attempt to save him from the clutches of death, and had not gone out unscathed.

Error had attacked them, too.

But he seemed genuinely concerned about them.

It was like watching water catch on fire; Ink was lost and Error was nothing more than an unsolvable riddle for him, one that never stopped growing, that entangled itself more and more until deciphering it became a false hope.

He knew Dream was concerned about his reactions and thoughts about Error's empathy when he looked back at him for a moment before focusing back on the glitched skeleton, and Ink tried to hide his disapproval. He had to wonder why Error had attacked _them_  in the first place, and why he suddenly felt bad about it, and why he didn't seem to hold any grudge against him anymore despite being a few feet apart. It was like he had a thousand personalities living in disharmony, waiting to be unleashed and cause panic and puzzlement.

Dream allowed a moment of silence. He didn't want to start prying into the subject. He understood what it was to lose family. To see them suffer. To see them crumble under the influence of others. To see them go. Though it would be better to know so, he was not going to ask Error what happened to his brother until it wasn't such a recent impact on him, or until he brought it up himself. No reason to prod at the wound. No reason to aggravate him.

He just hoped Ink would know better than to start throwing remarks. He had a chance to show him that holding grudges against someone who did not hold them back didn’t make him the good guy.

"And…" Dream veered for something else, something they could know without much trouble and that Error would hopefully not be too distressed to tell. "What happened between you and Ink earlier…" He wasn't looking at Ink, and yet he still saw him tense and could feel his gaze burning into his back. "Was there any reason for that…?"

Error remained silent, blinking once as he took in a breath that he didn't intend to release straight away. The artist didn't like his pause. He didn't like  _anything_  around him, and he felt like throwing up. It wasn't in his best interest, but he couldn't keep his eyes off Error. He wanted to shriek at Dream to stop getting his attention, to stop talking altogether, but he couldn't utter a sound.

When had he started trembling so much?

**"i… i don't…"**

If he  _dared_ say he didn't remember… Because he very clearly remembered that his brother and perhaps Undyne too were in big trouble because of him. Ink was afraid, but that did not mean he would hide his indignation because the mess they had been thrown into had become worse thanks and only thanks to Error.

"…you don't remember?" Dream tried finishing the sentence the glitch wasn't fond of continuing, but he shook his head, his eyes narrowing. Both Ink and Dream could see his fists clenching and the two of them grew wary of it, fully aware that Error was not devoid of lethal weaponry that had remained hidden without a trace for years, but no intent to snap came from him.

 **"it's not that. i do remember."** Error stuttered to a pause.  **"kind of."** If anything, he seemed uncomfortable about Ink's presence when it came to that specific subject, rather than mad or saddened. The artist himself caught on that.  **"but i… i didn't… _mean_  to do that…"**

"Nice story," Dream heard Ink murmur, just under his breath, before he turned around with a look that said it all: be quiet or else. Ink gave him an indignant shrug in response to the glower, asking for guidance on where he was wrong, but Dream was not in the mood to correct the way he thought about Error, although he wouldn't let his discontentment go unheard of.

Ink resigned to crossing his arms and wait for whatever Error had to say. Might as well listen to the tales of his unstable mind. What else was there for him to do if his opinion wasn't the one supposed to matter?

Dream waited for Error to collect his thoughts with as much patience as he could muster, which was a lot more than he'd imagined. He wasn't going to push him. He couldn't allow any rush. From that point on, anything he did he had to do it from the heart, let the best of his intuition take over. There was no room for mistakes. For any more mistakes.

There was far too much at stake.

 **"nightmare came to me. he told me something. something about ink. something… about _me_. but i can't-…" ** Error brought a hand to his forehead in frustration, clenching his eyes shut and trying to remember a blur.  **"i... i don't know what he told me. i don't know why it affected me so much. i... all i know is that i snapped, and everything else is foggy."**

Nightmare being involved was more than enough proof for Dream to believe Error had no bad intentions whatsoever, aside from how stricken and puzzled he was, but Ink wasn't as convinced. He was not buying how that whole forgetting shtick Error had worked. It seemed to coincidental that he always forgot the most important events he caused or went through.

Ink didn't have the greatest memory of all, but things like those would never stop roaming his mind. He couldn’t share the cause.

**"i didn't mean to harm anyone, i'm not even sure _how_ i did it..."**

"It's okay," Dream noted the broken skeleton's growing distress, and gave him the cue to take a breath and not start freaking out again. "We know you didn't mean it." Again, a judgmental glance was thrown at Ink. The artist didn't respond in any way that time. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Eventually."

Error went silent again, trying in vain to remember what Nightmare could have ever told him to make such a mess out of his aching mind, to detach him from reality like he did, to make him try and kill those he actually loved, but nothing served as a memory.

Ink hadn't given him any reasons to remain as good acquaintances, but it was never his intention to harm him like he had. He remembered that much. He just didn't know how. Why.

He was afraid of himself. What were the odds he would go savage again?

His brother was in danger because of him.

He had ruined any chance he had to make Ink see another light.

He didn't know where Undyne was.

**"...why are they doing this?"**

Dream didn't have much to answer with. He'd realized that, no matter what he was told, or what was shown to him, he wouldn't understand why Quetzalcoatl would bother taking things that far. He was not happy with not being the only giver of life, he could understand that to a certain extent. But it was no reason to act like a psychopath, to take it out on people who didn't even know he existed, to break friends and families apart, to bring them all back to hell.

Error was next in line, and he would not allow it. Not anymore. He had given himself up to face the core of the incoming apocalypse, and he was not about to throw that sacrifice down the drain.

"It's complicated." he began, averting his gaze. "But they are in the wrong. We're not going to let them win. We'll get your brother to safety."

Perhaps he didn't have much saying, but as long as he was standing, nobody in there would suffer.

The approaching, cold and dreadful aura wanted to say otherwise.

 

* * *

 

_"Are you completely insane?"_

She had seen it coming, and she would accept it with a heart of grieving steel. The shock and worries were gone; it was time for anger, and Nim had plenty to let out at her. Even as afraid and shaken as she was, Lanny would take it.

When she got to the Tree of Feelings, hurt and tired and bleeding from the small yet deep cuts on her face and arms, everything was a commotion of panic and concern, though she was glad only Nim and Nanna were there to cause it — she still hadn’t asked when the elder elf had gotten there or why, and she was not planning to; no time for that.

When she revealed the reason _why_ she was in that state, Nim was the first to let that concern turn into frustration and ire coated with fearful disappointment, and Nanna turned her own concern into dread. Unn let no second go to waste before flying to his owner in a bird’s version of a hug that Lanny appreciated despite everything, but she _wanted_ him to be mad as well for having risked his life, ignoring his disability to do so.

"I'm sorry..." was all the elf could say, and she felt shame for having to do so in the first place. She had the bad habit of not listening and she never realized how serious it was until the consequences of it poured down on her like the mightiest of storms, but that time had been the last straw. It was clear an apology was not enough.

 _"You better be."_ the dryad snapped, giving the younger guardian a hard look that forced her to avert her gaze. _"What were you_ thinking _, venturing out alone despite knowing what was out there? What could you have_ possibly _expected?"_

Lanny was too ashamed to look back up. That was what she had been trying to prevent the entire time. She never wanted to bring more stress upon Nim, she never wanted to worry people, but that was what she did all because of her stubbornness. She could only think about what could have happened had she still been connected to the Yggdrasil. Not even she could tell if she wouldn’t have been as hot-headed.

Her voice was small when she brought herself to speak. "I... I don't know."

And she truly didn’t. She had been so certain of what she wanted to do… and yet as time progressed, those mindsets and ideas scattered into thin air, breaking themselves further and further apart until she believed any thought she could have was rotten and withered.

 _"You could have died. Was it worth it? You got your wish, did it pay off? I warned you for a reason, we could have lost you and it would not have brought us_ anything _."_

Nanna exchanged glances between the two guardians, unable to feel nothing but pity for the elf. Lanny knew there was nothing more for her to say, nothing to do aside from tracing a forlorn hand across the soft feathers of the quetzal trying to give her reassurance and comfort. She had no excuse.

Nanna was not afraid to step up, however anything she did she did it with absolute respect. "Maybe... you're being a little harsh on he-"

"It's  _not_  harsh." Lanny stopped her before Nim could make any attempt to do so, a vague hand gesture to get the point across. "It's... it's not harsh."

Of course it wasn't harsh. She deserved it. She was fine, she didn't even want people to be worried about her despite how shaken she was. She had been given many warnings, she had voted against going out there alone herself, but she still wandered into the deathtrap and it was only the purest of acts of luck that Quetzalcoatl had gotten out of that fight worse than she did.

It was the very first time she had been wounded. It wasn't a nice first time. But she believed it served her well, and it was one of those few thoughts she didn’t reject.

Nim tented her hands over her nose, heaving a sigh that was supposed to help her calm down but was not giving the right effect. There were too many things at once. There was only so much she was willing to take. She was not in the mod nor had the resolution to handle so much stress at once, but there was little she could do against what the world had decided to throw at them.

She was as afraid of the thought of having nearly lost what was like a sister to her as she was angry at the fact that all the talks they'd had had been ignored, glossed over without shame, and the consequences had made themselves known with bitter might. She knew Lanny and she knew her stubbornness issues... but she had expected better from her.

Those cuts could have been so much more.

She lowered herself to the ground, against the Tree, next to Lanny who could still not make eye contact with her. She was truthfully sorry and Nim knew that, but that did not mean she was not disappointed, and distressed, and mad.

But there was no point in reminding her what she had done. She’d had enough for a day.

_"Just... tell us the whole story."_

Lanny made the weakest of attempts at a shrug, her eyes taking her back to everything she had seen in that place, a place she wouldn't set foot on again until fate brought her back there, and she wanted to close them so that she wouldn’t see or hear all of that again even though she was certain she would until her life came to an end, if it did. Grief was a shotgun, aiming at her heart and shooting, over and over and over again. The feeling was stronger then.

"He's mad." she started, her voice distant, breaking. "We lost him. We lost him completely."

That thought alone hurt more than the bites of the cuts she had taken with herself.

"I thought I would have a chance. I thought I could talk things out with him. I didn't feel the need to be belligerent toward him." A small inhale. "But then... he turned things around. He was not kidding in any way when we fought. He could have had the heart to kill me and would have never shed a tear."

Lanny had to stop for a second before her voice could break any further, before her eyes could start watering. She wanted to stop reminding herself that the creature who could have taken her life had been a respected friend and mentor once. She would never get that out of her mind. That day changed everything.

"He kept... saying something about us betraying him. About us destroying his world, so he'll destroy ours in return. I still don't understand what he means."

Finally, she looked up at Nim, but she wasn't looking back, gaze lost in the horizon as she listened to every single word with the most attention she could muster.

She had trouble believing it despite it being a blatant truth. Things ending the way they were was what she had feared the most since Quetzalcoatl had shown himself as a threat. She had been the first to think they had a chance, the first to think they would come across some way to reunite with the Quetzalcoatl they knew, but the possibilities fled off like leaves in the wind down an uncertain path.

Nim felt the elf's exhausted eyes wait for guidance, but she understood nothing when it came to the eldest guardian’s motives to want to harm them, among many other things.

_"...there has to be a reason for him to have snapped. I would have never imagined he would be like this."_

"Yes, but what?" Lanny shifted so she was facing the dryad. "He was blaming it on us, but we didn't do anything. Not that I'm aware. And it certainly wouldn't be enough of a reason for...  _this_."

She wasn't referring to herself and her broken heart, but to all the other people that had been harmed and the people that would be harmed if they didn't find a solution. They had already been victims of someone who was man, power hungry and driven crazy by wrong mindsets, and she didn’t want it to happen again. But that time, it was out of their reach.

Nim shook her head, thoughtful and thoughtless, and Lanny acknowledged they were both equally lost. Quetzalcoatl wanted to keep his drive a secret from them, and she feared he would let them know right before he would kill them all without a single regret.

"I found his hideout, at least..." Lanny added, aloof. "I think."

She shifted nervously.

"I don't trust people down in the Underground anymore. If he really resides there, they could be in danger. There were very few people in Waterfall the deeper I went, and I don't want to jump into conclusions, but... I doubt that's a coincidence..."

Nim pursed her lips. It dawned on her how many people were endangered. How many critters out there they would never be able to reach. How many could have already died. That place was a disaster. It wasn't safe. It truly was no safe haven.

It was no wonder Quetzalcoatl had created it anymore. It was likely he had set it all up to keep people split despite any warnings to stay together, to allow easy targets to thrive. It might as well be the reason why the Trees and villages were so far apart, too.

_"...did you find out anything about Dream?"_

The dryad couldn't help changing the subject. She hadn't stopped thinking about Dream or Nightmare since they were ripped from her. She kept believing they would never get out of the hell they had been plunged into, and it hurt to have those mindsets, but there wasn't much even omnipotent creatures like them could do.

They could do anything once. There, they were nothing more than puppets.

"I'm not sure where they are, but he has them." Lanny assured. "They're probably in that cave, but I wouldn't trust anything Quetzal is involved with anymore..."

Nim frowned.  _"Wait, 'they'?"_

Just a second after, she wanted to assume Lanny was also talking about Nightmare, but it didn't sit right. She knew all too well that Nightmare was working alongside Quetzalcoatl.

"Yes? Dream and Ink."

The dryad blinked.  _"...he has Ink too?"_

It was Lanny's turn to frown. "I... Didn't Error's brother tell you?"

_"I did not see him here at all.”_

Lanny felt a tightness in her chest she didn't like nor appreciate, and stood up after freezing. Undyne had very clearly told them that the glitched Papyrus had gone over to the Tree of Feelings to warn Nim and whoever else that was around about Ink and Error, and he certainly should have reached them by then. He wasn’t one to get lost easily, because those two wandered a lot more than most people did and they had never lost their way.

Her gaze bore into the elder elf as she let Unn fly to her. "Nanna, where did Undyne head off to?"

Nanna held the bird close. Her expression told all Lanny did not want to hear. "I am not quite sure. She was in a rush. I believe she was coming here judging by the direction she took, but, if she was not, then..."

…as if they hadn't had enough.

The elf's gaze panned to the other guardian, both looking at each other the same way, with the same thoughts, with the same apprehension. Undyne was very hot-headed too. Who knew what she could have done… "Are you thinking what I'm thinking...?"

_"I wish I could think otherwise."_

Lanny huffed in despair, throwing her hands over her head and ambling back against the Tree. "This is just fantastic, now they have those two as well." She plopped down, her hand on her forehead, and she silently cursed everything in existence. She was not sure they had been captured as well, but odds were they had. "And as if that wasn't bad enough, now that insane idiot is out there too... Could this be  _any worse_?"

Nim paused, and gave her a skeptical look in search for answers. Lanny felt bad the moment she realized there were so many things about their current situation she was not aware of; it was almost funny how her last intention had been to stress her out and yet she was only giving her reasons for her distress to flourish.

"Oh, yeah, left that out... You see, the main reason I got out of that relatively unscathed is because... Kamea came out of nowhere. He stopped Quetzalcoatl. Slashed him across the face. I'm still thankful he didn't kill him, or me, even though he could have... And then he went on his way."

Lanny feared she would never understand why Kamea had betrayed his own creator without any previous warnings. She certainly was not going to go find him or wait until he found them to ask; whatever the reason was, it couldn't be anything good or reasonable. People like him could never be in the right.

On the other hand, however... she _had_ to be thankful, because it was only thanks to him that she had come back with various cuts to remember the day her beloved memories of the past turned into rueful nightmares and nothing more, but of course she would never admit it out loud. He of all people did not deserve that kind of praise.

It was rather sad to think that some mortal had saved her life.

Even she who had gone through it couldn't quite piece it together, couldn't deem in an event that had indeed taken place, so she understood Nim's confusion and skepticism about it.

_"...he... saved you?"_

Lanny shook her head lightly. "I am really sure he didn't do it for me. He was hurt too. My first thought was that he and Quetzal had argued some time before and he just... wanted revenge."

Nim crossed her arms. Something about it didn't make any sense whatsoever. Not like Quetzalcoatl's intentions made any sense, not as long as he didn't deign himself to explain, but Kamea was the loosest piece in the scrambled puzzle. It was clear he never had any good intentions. He could have gotten rid of two guardians out of everyone's knowledge, but he did not.

She was starting to think he was a separate threat, acting out of his own conscience, and that would hinder any plan they could come up with. Quetzalcoatl was dangerous enough and nobody on their right mind would challenge him like the human did. It wasn’t any reason to be less worried about the group splitting.

"...what do we do now?"

Nim's gaze panned past the Underground, past her village, past the worried elder, and she realized there was no way they could protect everyone no matter how much they wanted to. If they remained watchful, Kamea was a minor threat, but there was no way to assure people in the villages, the Underground or other places they couldn't always reach would be safe. They couldn't protect them all and there were many humans and monsters that would not be able to defend themselves in the face of danger.

The more it carried on, the more people would be affected.

_"Not going down there again, for one. Just... give me some time to think about it."_


	29. Prove Your Strength and Your Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're messing with the wrong people."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told you bad things were coming
> 
> *insert "ah shit, here we go again" meme here*

Only minutes after, when everything seemed calm and tranquil, growls rumbled across the walls of the cave, distant but not far away, too close for comfort, as menacing as the warning thunder before the storm.

Dream perked up in an instant, forgetting his need to close his eyes and fall asleep. He'd realized how tired he was just then, and even the danger they were in didn't deter his need to rest. It would be a grave mistake to weaken himself in such situation, and he was fighting hard against exhaustion; those inhuman noises served as a well-needed alarm clock.

"What was that?"

He was expecting no answer, only confirmation that he was not going crazy and that the two other skeletons could hear those growls as clearly as he could. Such confirmation did not inspire much hope, though: Ink was just as shaken, if not more so, and Error had frozen and Dream could've sworn it was due to him knowing exactly what was out there.

He scowled, readying.

The duo glanced at the glitch, not happy about his defensive stance as the snarls grew closer, closer until they could hear footsteps approaching them at an uneven pace. They rose to their feet, no sudden moves, each looking in opposite directions waiting for the threat to arrive with little joy, if it even knew they were there. Anything they were unable to recognize in that place was a reason for distress.

He was certain it was a question he could regret, but Dream would rather know what they were up against before the reveal turned out to be a grave hazard. "Error, what is that?"

The broken skeleton stood up as well, and Ink couldn't help but glue himself to his side of the hollow while watching both him and his corner. He was not going to get in the way of Error's self-defense if it was about to be unleashed again. He was as still as a statue, but that could and would change faster than anyone could blink.

**"it's those things again..."**

The answer was a little worse than what Dream could have expected, laced with hatred, fear that could be battled for the sake of spite. 'Those things' was anything but encouraging, and something they might have never faced before — just what they needed: some new friends to light up the party.

As predicted, he was already wishing he wouldn't have asked just so that the suffocating apprehension would get away from him.

"What thing–"

Pandemonium. As though it were waiting for him to open his mouth again, a creature only Error seemed to have recognized at first pounced at the bars with fury, a desire to tear and rip and kill, and Dream only saw white eyes, fangs, claws that could cut through rock and steel before he stumbled away from their reach with a startled shriek.

Ink all but jumped in shock as the shadow smashed itself against the black bars and tried to make its way into the hollow through them, starving for blood, and even Error’s figure was lost in a mass of riddled particles as he started. The artist was again raided by that inner instinct to reach out for his paintbrush and defend himself, but being reminded that he didn't have it with him caused an unwanted surge of panic.

Only the two torches clinging to the rock wall illuminated their area, but that was enough to identify the threat, and needless to say, Dream was completely taken aback for a few seconds.

He was quick to identify the shape of a Papyrus. Underfell's one, to be precise. But not quite him. It was all black as if it were his shadow, its narrowed eyes, nose and mouth with bared fangs for teeth a white contrast to the rest of its body. Phalanges sharp as knives gripped the bars like the thing believed it could bend them like clay, trying to slash at the captive skeletons like some manic beast. A second one creeped around, a stalking predator about to lunge.

Dream and Ink's first thought? That they were those specters Nightmare had created so long ago and that everyone had grown to love, corrupted and driven out of their minds to be vicious killers with no time for foolishness, because no other Papyrus among the hundreds that lived there looked like them. But Dream saw what Ink didn't see, and it was what ridded him of his bewilderment and disbelief.

Unlike the specters that only wished to keep people cheerful, those were not numbered, and they had a haze of darkness around them, smoke, like their bodies were perpetually evaporating and yet were solid as could be. There was no way they were the same skeletons.

Or, perhaps they were, turned into nightmarish creatures. There was no way to know.

Either way, they were not there in a quest for friends, and they were nothing like the specters they took after when it came to behavior — if anything, they were what they _could_ have been, if Nightmare hadn’t only cared about their obedience and lack of pity and nothing more. They did not even seem to have the ability to speak, instead emitted constant growls like rabid feral dogs waiting for orders to maul. It wasn't like 3's well known issue with words. Not even he could make such animalistic sounds.

"And what are _those_ supposed to be?" Ink blurted, devoid of anything to say, lost on what to do, barely realizing he would be asking the last person he would dare speak to while diving through a haze of bafflement.

**"i don't know."**

Ink, for a moment, was more surprised at the fact that Error didn't mind answering his questions than he was at the snarling creatures that were snapping their jaws at them and trying to pry the bars apart, threatening to break through at any given moment. He was almost agape, and he still did not understand what could be going or what could have gone through the glitch’s mind.

**"and i don't care. _they_ 're the ones who took my brother."**

If there was one thing Error remembered with the clarity of crystalline water, it was the first time he saw those specters. He had woken up in a strange place, much like the one he was in — he couldn’t remember when or where or how he had fallen asleep, if he even had, — and he saw Nightmare, and that crazed guardian, and beside them were two of those demons, holding his terrified brother.

He was scarred, and he was because of him and only because of him and he remembered lashing out at him. He was looking at him with sadness, hoping they wouldn’t hurt him, and yet there was so much fear and confusion in those empty eyesockets of his, all directed at him, because he had hurt him without any logical reason to do so.

He never knew where Undyne had gone.

It was soon after that when he’d snapped and caused more trouble than he should have, when that foolish human he hoped to never see again made an uncalled for comment about his brother’s safety and about how broken and hopeless he was. They had told him countless times that those he cared for would be harmed if he upset them, and he hadn’t abided, and he soon found out it was because he couldn’t control himself when anger surged through his bones.

He held back the urge to fight back.

Knowing that Error hung on to a vivid grudge against those creatures was one more reason for Ink to keep as much distance as he could, because from then on the glitched skeleton was a ticking bomb and he was right in its vicinity with no way to get away from it. Dream was still not concerned about him — about _him_ , yes, his wellbeing, but not about the power he could unleash if provoked, — and the artist truly wished he could get into his head and figure out just what he was thinking when it came to Error.

Dream was not oblivious to the fact that Error seemed about to retaliate even if he was hesitating, as if he had no idea how to fight back but pretended he did, but that was when the rabid skeletons stopped and the pulsing tension that threatened to knock the air out of their hypothetical lungs ceased its onslaught.

**_"Enough."_ **

The Papyri stepped back without complaints, the one at the bars completely forgetting it was acting like a savage as they both turned to look at someone, someone whose identity was not doubted.

Dream had known something bad was about to happen the moment he’d started to feel eerily cold, much before they had heard the growls and footsteps coming toward them. Only Nightmare could be responsible for that feeling, and he didn't fail his expectations.

The dripping skeleton emerged from the starving shadows with that infuriating and yet dreadful grin etched across his face. The Papyri stepped further back as he approached in a display of respect, and kept their blank gazes on him waiting for orders. There was no doubt: he had created them.

**_"Sorry about that. I hope they didn't scare you. We do have a bunch of cowards here, after all."_ **

Dream was the first to give him a glare that showed all he was thinking about him and his choice to incorporate some minions to the growing army of madmen, despite the lack of support as Error threw away his defensive stance completely and backed up, no longer as confident and willing to reciprocate with Nightmare there. Ink didn't want anything to do with that creature of darkness either, and much less with Error; if Nightmare had told him something that had made him mad before, he could do it again right there and nobody would be able to stop his temporary insanity.

Neither Ink nor Dream were thinking about questioning who or what those Papyri were, and much less if they were those they had known for so long because they had no space to mourn one more, collective loss. Instead, they remained silent, holding their ground, never taking their eyes off of Nightmare, waiting for his intentions to be unveiled — Ink was starting to learn they were not actively going to try and run each chance they got, and beginning to understand that it was for the better.

Error, meanwhile, averted his gaze.

 ** _"Still giving me the cold shoulder, huh?"_**  The melting skeleton gave his brother a sly grin, but again, that did not bring any response.  ** _"We'll see how long you keep that up..."_**

Dream argued against addressing Error's case while the one responsible for it was right there, and the whereabouts of his only family. The glitch was not comfortable with Nightmare's presence, and there was no need to put him in the spotlight in an encounter as tense as that was. They had to allow Error to trust them as much as possible. It was one of the few things they could succeed at if he were to go crazy.

**_"Well, given that no one has anything to say, I believe you'd have no complaints about coming with me."_ **

"Where."

Dream was still not afraid to talk back to Nightmare, much like he was not afraid to talk back to Quetzalcoatl despite being a flea against both of them as he currently was. Ink was still skeptical about his mindsets, being about as helpless as he was, but he wouldn't question much just yet as long as Dream was sure about what he'd chosen to do. Not like any of the two were happy about being moved around like cattle.

 ** _"It’s a surprise."_**  was Nightmare's only answer, carrying a bad presage with it and its crooked grin.  ** _"And I recommend you do as told, unless, of course, you want to talk it out with them."_**  He gestured to the spectral skeletons behind him, and they growled and snarled, flashed their sharp teeth, and Ink was the first who saw the swords and knives they carried in their belts, as dark as their bodies — as if they didn’t have enough lethal weaponry.

There was no doubt that those specters would not bother giving them a nice talk, a tour around the place perfect for making new friends over a cup of tea. It wasn't like doing as told would be any better, though. None of their foes had been in a calm mood before they were thrown in there, and the only options meant nothing but harm if they were to vent their anger on them.

It still felt like they would have more chances if they obeyed. The only thing that bothered Dream was that Ink would be forced to go through whatever he would, and that was not what he had planned and much less wanted. He was there willingly, but Ink was not, and neither was Error.

Not like they had much saying in the matter. Only Error was in any position to fight Nightmare, but then they had Quetzalcoatl to worry about, and even the three of them powered by all the strength they could ever imagine would be no match for the guardian. It was not a possibility to get away from what he had planned for them, and pushing those limits would destroy any future chance they had.

It was a painful choice, as much as it had been to give himself up, but Dream knew what was best for them; not _literally_ the best, in any way, but he was not risking lives that could not be lost if they played with their minds instead of their brawn. He just hoped Ink wouldn’t have to go through much, especially not if they forced Error to do something to him.

"...fine."

Uttering that single, pitiful and yet burdensome word was no more difficult than trying to grab a fistful of fire, but Dream couldn't say he regretted saying it despite the looks of utter disapproval and disbelief from the other two skeletons. Even Nightmare was rather surprised by his compliance, but more amused than anything.

Error was having none of that, though, and was not about to stay silent and accept the imposed fate like the artist was. **"the hell i'm going anywhere with _him_ -"**

 ** _"Oh,_** **you' _re staying here."_**  Nightmare cut him off, this time him being the cause for collective surprise. That was one weight off his shoulders, but Dream didn't like where their path was heading.

If only he was  _sure_  of what they had been thrown into...

Error wasn't one to complain about staying, and he was not about to, but something about being left there alone and trapped in such an exasperating space plunged in complete silence made him too apprehensive for his own liking. He did not say anything in response, though.

 ** _"And you better not make a fuss about it."_**  the melting skeleton continued, eyeing him with malice. Error no longer knew if he was supposed to be afraid, or angry. Nightmare's aura made him feel strange.  ** _"Your beloved brother might have to pay for your actions."_**

That was Error's cue to swallow all his hatred for the skeleton that was straining his mind, but that did not stop him from scowling at him, from clenching his fists. Much like Dream, he had chosen to be cautious over being reckless after his many slip ups, all for his sibling’s safety. He had put his life on the line too many times.

No need for damage... He kept telling himself that.

 

* * *

 

There was not enough to heal the wound.

No matter. There was no need to waste it on something so trivial when he would have so much more use for it. He did hold respect to battle scars, after all, no matter from whom, or where, or how. That one would be one to remember. A lesson to be taught and learnt. He should have played his cards better.

He knew the betrayal would take place there one day. He had been ready for it, and yet he had let his guard down. He was no one to call himself perfect, and he accepted any mistake he made. It meant there was something more for him to learn, and he never rejected knowledge.

Knowledge was key for strength.

Quetzalcoatl placed the vial back hanging from the abraded, protruding fragments of rocks littering the walls. Soon enough, someone else would need healing more than he ever would, and it would be such a discourteous thing to do, not to grant them what they needed — and deserved, depending on how they reacted to his test.

The distant growls of the skeletal creatures Nightmare had created began to echo across, and he knew it was showtime. He was, for once, proud of the melting skeleton; he was fast when it came to grasping his powers and abilities again.

Soon enough, he would have all he wanted, and nothing else would stand in his way.

Nightmare and the specters emerged from the entrance, engulfed by darkness, the other two skeletons in front of him. They had grown more and more reluctant to keep moving, slowing down by the second the longer they walked down the ominous corridors; Nightmare resorted to shoving them into the chamber, their knees scraping against the unforgiving stone as the spectral skeletons growled at them, daring them to run.

 ** _"They're making this too easy."_**  Nightmare commented, walking past the duo as they rose to their feet with hard glares planted on his melting form, undeterred.

"No need to worry..."

Any and all attention that had been focused on Nightmare was panned to Quetzalcoatl without a second to waste. The guardian was not facing them, tying strings to the corks of the vials, replacing the empty ones hanging from the staff with new ones, discarding those he considered useless. The presence of those he had requested seemed like it couldn't matter less to him, and yet he was still observant.

"That is bound to change today."

Gasping with shock had not been one of the things Dream had believed he would do there, but no other sound came from him as Quetzalcoatl turned around and he saw that large gash running from top to bottom across his face. Several scales had been ripped off from the patch on his cheek, and his eye had steered clear off the wound's path out of the wish of luck.

It was deep, scarring but undeniably recent.

Dream was swarmed by thoughts that wanted to explain the cause of that injury until his head ached and felt like it would explode at any given moment, all whilst Ink remained silent, thrown off-guard, wondering the same but lacking the possible answers.

Quetzalcoatl was a guardian, a being with immense power that was right at immortality's door. They could stand tall against nature's fiercest tantrums, against the powers of every monster combined into one — very few things in the world could harm them, much less lethally, and yet their eyes did not lie.

Who on their right mind would wish to challenge Quetzalcoatl? Who would have the idiotic courage to go against him in serious combat as if completing a pointless dare, when not even Nightmare dared upset him? It felt surreal.

Then again, Dream thought, there was a certain someone who could pose a threat to the guardians, who had gotten on Quetzalcoatl's nerves before, who would be bold enough, and that wound certainly looked like the gift of a knife.

He was still piecing it all together, and he hoped he was not right about anything he came up with. He didn’t want to be more worried than he already was.

The guardian did not address the tacit questions they had about the origin of that awful scar, however. He did not appear to be too worried about it himself, which was rather odd given the rare circumstances that would have to be given for him to earn a wound of any kind.

He did not appear to be too happy either, though. He was not surrounded by the precariously calm demeanor he had shown before; it, instead, had become precarious anger, but he was masking it, feigning it, trying to step over it and forget it. It was anything but a good sign; he could snap, and they would be powerless beyond words against him.

"Now, I'm certain you are wondering what you are here for today." the guardian started, everything about his tone and behavior placid, as though they were merely going to have a nice talk over some delectable cookies. Quetzalcoatl's capability to hide what he was thinking with such perfection scared Dream more each time he witnessed it.

"I don't think there's much to wonder..." Ink deadpanned, casting a small glance at Nightmare. There was no way they were getting out of there unscathed... but might as well take any chance they had to prevent that, even if it did not seem possible.

Quetzalcoatl chortled. "I truly do love how, all throughout, you two have shown nothing but fake courage, hiding your fear behind masks of nonchalance. I can recognize that façade over any other, thanks to...  _someone_." His gaze hardened as he looked at nothing in particular for only a second, and it was a cause for concern to both of them. It had been no accident. "I believe it's about time to get those mindsets out of you."

"It won't work." Dream stated. "There's nothing you can do that'll make us join you."

And there was not. He hoped so, at least. He had gone through everything imaginable, holding on until the very end, and even after all of it his mind continued to remind him of the pain he'd been forced to endure. He knew he had it in him to hold on. To stand his ground. He had survived so long, he had gotten where he was now, and it was all thanks to his resolve.

He had promised his mother that he would never belittle himself again, and that was what they wanted him to do. It was the last thing he could do for her, for himself, for everyone, and he would not fail.

No matter what.

No matter what...

Unsurprisingly, the guardian found his courage amusing, though he seemed more impatient than usual, more eager to start. Perhaps it was whatever anger he had accumulated, wishing to be vented out on someone else. "Mh, how strange of you, to be selfish. Have you forgotten the other two skeletons that are here with you? They are not as willing to undergo all of this, and last time I checked, you did not ask for their opinion."

He saw the exact moment in which Dream's so-called façade broke as he glanced at Ink, who glanced back in exchange, but both refused to let go of their forced bravery against the unstoppable still.

Ink was beginning to share Dream's will to stay strong, alongside holding back the need to escape. He did not want to, not with Error of all people as a threat, but he was not about to stand there acting as some mindless slave, acting as the same killing machine Error had once been and could be again.

He shuddered at the mere thought of himself working alongside Error, slaughtering those in his way because his broken mind would not let him stop.

"No need to worry, though." Quetzalcoatl was all too cheerful, focused on the caped skeleton. "We've decided you will be our puppet today. It was going to be the other way around, at first... but I owe him his moment of fun."

Nightmare gave him a crooked smile before his attention was panned to the skeletons. Dream heard the specters starting to approach a little too much before he saw them through the corner of his eye — he never noticed when their numbers had increased, — but he never took his eyes off the two much more dangerous beings. Ink took the liberty to watch the circling creatures, meanwhile.

"It won't work..." Dream couldn't help taking a step back despite being surrounded, despite having no chance to escape nor wanting to yet, and he mentally smacked himself when he realized his voice had wavered far too much.

He did not want to relive the past. He did not want anybody else in danger again.

But it was his only choice if he wanted to give the world more time.

**_"We'll see about that soon enough..."_ **

It was as sad as it was terrifying that Nightmare had not changed one bit since last time; only in the cooperation factor, and not that much. He had learnt nothing from the past, nothing from the many mistakes he had made. His corrupted mind could only think of bringing despair, pain, fear to others without much care for his own wellbeing in the long run.

Nobody in there seemed to have any common sense left, only Error,  _if_  they managed to keep him away from insanity's clutches. They were the only ones that could, and if they failed, they were done for.

Nightmare was given a vague signal to proceed by the guardian as he walked over to the ominous vials, and he wasted no time passing it on to the Papyri.  ** _"Seize them."_**

Within seconds, four of the six specters that had joined in lunged at them, two for each; their knife-sharp phalanges dug into their bones as they grabbed their arms, holding them with uncanny strength they couldn't fight against.

Panic as they were immobilized was inevitable, but both skeletons managed to keep it to themselves. They did not try to fight free from the specters' grasp; Ink made a small attempt, but understood he didn't stand a chance. The force those skeletons possessed was worrisome, to say the least.

Holding a red vial, Quetzalcoatl approached them. They felt small, puny in his presence, more than ever before and that only fueled their fear, but they remained compliant, trying their best not to break down.

Quetzalcoatl focused his attention on Ink first, who glared back devoid of any other choice. "Now, I am simply going to ask a favor of you."

Ink narrowed his eyes, flickering triangles trying to hide any kind of visible fear though the light tremor of his body betrayed him. "I think you and I both know the answer to that."

The guardian breathed out a small chuckle. "I do. Which is why I brought the two of you here."

Without warning, he opened the vial, crimson fumes coming from it, before smashing it against the ground in front of the skeletons. It caught them too off-guard to realize they breathed in the vapor it released; it was sharp and made them itch and cough, though the Papyri were unaffected, their eyes and mouth tightly closed as they held their breath.

Something immediately felt off within them, too cold, though they couldn't form the words to ask what it was as they coughed and shook their heads away from the stinging fumes until the smoke disappeared into thin air in a matter of seconds.

"It's time to put your resilience to the test. See if this courage of yours truly is an act, or if you would go as far as maintaining that 'heroic' act even at the expense of your alleged friends."

The skeletons could barely begin to worry about the guardian's words as they shook the leftover spores off, their eyes stinging as they opened.

"No need to fear that, by the way." Quetzalcoatl's assurance was not making its desired effect. "It would be more fun if impure mortals like you could bleed. It was the only thing that was requested of me. Not that I could ever deny so... The color of blood holds unnamable beauty."

Nightmare was given another signal to continue when Quetzalcoatl paced away, and his smile continued to grow as the two remaining Papyri planted their expectant gazes on Dream.  ** _"To the ground."_**

All it took for the caped skeleton to come crashing down on the cold floor was a shove from the skeletal figures that were holding him, continuing to keep his arms still as the other two rushed over with nightmarish snarls — one pinned his head as well, while the other circled around, waiting.

"Don't you dare hurt him–!" Ink couldn't even make the attempt to stop the specters before the two holding him tightened their grip and kept him right where he was, their growls threatening him to try that again; he heard one of them unsheathe either the sword or the knife, and he stopped.

" _Don't_ ," Dream snapped, almost desperately. He winced, grunted at the force the Papyri held him against the rocky ground, but he did not let that deter him. "Don't do anything. It's okay. Really."

His voice was wavering to the point where he believed there was an earthquake within his bones.

Ink gritted his teeth, but made no more attempts to stop any incoming disaster no matter how much his less rational mind was begging him to. The rattle behind him had a stronger hold of his attention.

"I want you to know that there is no reason for you to suffer. You can resign now, make up your minds and see the truth, and this can end well for all of us. I’m not asking much of you."

"Yeah, as soon as pigs fly." Ink tried to turn around, let Quetzalcoatl see what he thought of him and his apparent insanity, but the Papyri were not letting him.

"So clueless. It's pitiable, really. When will you realize that you have nothing to fight for..."

Much like Quetzalcoatl was pacing behind Ink, Nightmare was pacing beside Dream where he was unable to turn his head and look at him. He could feel his grin boring into him. His eyes tried to dart in his direction, narrowing, showing he was not afraid of what would happen to him if Ink didn't comply, but it was to no avail.

He  _was_ afraid.

Quetzalcoatl stopped in between them, awfully calm for the distress he was causing the two skeletons. "So, I take it for a fact that you are not going to do this the easy way?"

Hesitation stopped Ink before he could say anything, and he instead turned his head away. He didn't want Dream to be hurt because of him, but he was not going to bend to their will without putting up a fight, and Dream was not either.

"...I see."

The guardian pretended to think, to ponder. "I believe you have as many teeth as a regular human, yes?"

Ink was taken aback by the odd question, blinking as he looked back at Quetzalcoatl. Dream was just as lost, though he still felt Nightmare grinning beside him, even more so, and that was nothing but the worst of presages.

"I think... ten would be a reasonable number, if that's the case. Ten chances. That is more than enough for today, right?"

The artist squinted. "...what are you talking about?"

No answer. Not for him, at least. Quetzalcoatl turned to Nightmare, "Go ahead," and walked back to the array of vials as though his job there was done and over with. Ink didn't like how the two specters holding him added force, like they were anticipating him to start struggling again.

Nightmare looked at the ones holding Dream, his smile nothing but eager anticipation.  ** _"Rip out his teeth."_**

A surge of terror pulsed through every bone in Dream's body, his eyes widening, and he was subconsciously trying to stand up before his mind registered the action. It turned out to be futile, of course; the two skeletons seizing his arms — and shoulders — were more than enough to hold him down, and the third one pinning his skull against the ground yanked at his circlet, forcing him to face forward despite his best efforts not to.

Clawed hands tried to reach for his mouth, always managing to keep his head pinned without trouble against his panicked struggles. Soon enough, Ink joined the bedlam out of sheer fear, yelling at them to stop, tugging and writhing, but nothing he did worked.

Despite his attempts at fighting back, the specter got a proper hold of Dream, managing to pry his jaw open; it only made the skeleton panic more, kicking at the ground, doing everything he could with half his body pinned firmly, but it was no use.

The fourth specter came into view. Crouched beside him. He was powerless to stop the sharp phalanges that reached in for the molars, his eyes darting, his breathing hitched and ragged.

It  _pulled_. An awful crack echoed across, a stream of blood followed the tooth that dusted into nothing, a scream took over.

Dream had promised himself he would not scream, that he would not give Nightmare that satisfaction and let him know that he was hurting him, but it was beyond impossible; his entire skull throbbed.

They said  _ten_.

"No! Damn it,  _stop_!" Ink was far more angered at the fact that he could do nothing than he had ever been at anything, and even his hatred for Error could not compare to the frenetic chills that took over his body.

"You can stop it." was all Quetzalcoatl said, his tranquility sickening beyond words — even more so than Nightmare's clear enjoyment of his brother's suffering. It might as well turn out the both of them were sadists. "You only have to do what is requested of you, without lies, or the little one will be the one to pay."

“What do you want?!”

“Something simple. All I want from you is to act as our… provider. Just this once. Prove how useful you could be.”

Ink stopped himself before he could shriek the words he wanted Quetzalcoatl to know, held off every inch of hatred that threatened to erupt. He couldn't just give up.

Dream was looking at him. His eyes were enough: he did not want him to defend him.

Not like he approved of the idea.

The guardian took his silence as an answer, and continued watching a vial that had piqued his interest; one of turquoise colors, mixed with faint lavender. It was all a show to him, much like it was to Nightmare. "Fine. Suit yourself. Thank you for making it more interesting for us. You have nine chances to reconsider, remember."

But he did not reconsider, and the specters continued their act of torture; two teeth, and then three, and then four, all followed by shrieks, by cracks, by more and more blood and the sporadic chuckle from Nightmare, and they didn’t stop.

Dream couldn't decipher any words at that point, his screams breaking, his strength wavering, the amount of blood he was forced to swallow if he wanted to keep breathing still making him feel sick. There was too much red, too many tears, more pain than he could handle.

He was not ready. He would never be.

Quetzalcoatl was not fazed by it, not concerned on the slightest, not quite enjoying his suffering like Nightmare was. It was as if such cruelty was an everyday routine for him. "Do you want to keep hurting him like this?"

Ink growled at the accursed question. He was seriously reconsidering, but it would be worse if he accepted. He would not have the heart to do what was requested of him, and if he refused to, Dream would pay the consequences; and considering what Quetzalcoatl could come up with, he would rather not see the results of that.

The guardian hummed, an inscrutable mixture of confusion and intrigue. "What friends you are. See, this is why loving others is such a hazard. It makes your mind split like this. Someone will always be harmed if they are cared for or care about someone else."

And refusing to listen to Ink's pleads to stop and Dream's shrieks, they continued. Each crack was more nerve-racking than the last, each scream more desperate, wringing more tears and more blood; there were slim fractures lining the skeleton’s chin by the time he'd lost seven molars.

And then he had enough.

He never knew why or how; Dream only knew he was possessed by a surge of anger, one like he had never felt in a long time — or ever before. He knew what he was doing, and yet he did not, and he managed, through efforts heavy enough to make his entire body ache, to hook his leg around the knee of one of the specters holding his arms, yanking and making it lose balance for a decisive moment.

It keeled over and pushed into the skeleton that was about to reach in again, which in exchange elbowed the other holding Dream’s jaw open, causing it to lose its grip for a split second.

Dream worked at the speed of light. The moment he had freedom of movement, he bit down on the dark hand in front of him — both accidentally and on purpose, and heavens if he didn’t recoil at the crunch that resounded in the bloodied phalanges of the unfortunate chosen one, — the specter pulling away with a yowl and giving him enough room to sit up and shove the last skeleton off his arm with his free one, a grunt given at the force he had to use.

He scrambled away from them as fast as he could before they had a chance to recover, but they were on him again soon enough, grasping and clawing and growling in vicious anger, until they retreated.

**_"Stop."_ **

Dream was almost more worried about all the blood incessantly dripping down his chin, its copper taste unbearable, than he was about trying to figure out why Nightmare had put an end to the onslaught. It was Quetzalcoatl that had given him the initiative, hand raised, his eyes planted on him like magnets. Without complaints — though not the same could be said about the one that ended with a couple of broken fingers, and despite everything, Dream felt sorry for it, — the specters returned to Nightmare's side, and the ones holding Ink shoved him to the ground as they joined.

Dream retreated to the corner of the chamber, breathing heavily, but fear was no longer lacing his traits and he was undaunted by the harsh and yet perplexed eyes directed at him. Ink was right by his side a second after, knowing nothing he could do would be more useful than mimicking his hateful stare. They gave each other a look, and that was enough.

It was hard not to melt as the back of his hand covered his bleeding mouth.

As though in slow motion, Quetzalcoatl lowered his arm, took a few steps toward them without heading straight for them. His head never looked in any other direction other than theirs; it was unsettling. There was no smile, no scowl. Inscrutable, unreadable.

"...how very curious."

Dream managed to ignore the scornful glare his brother was giving him and drowned out the sounds of the skeletons' growls against all odds. The creeping smile of the guardian was far worse than them.

"See, this is what I was looking for. This willpower you have. What serves as its detonator, I wonder?"

Not even Dream himself knew the answer to that question. It had been a surge of everything at the same time, of every rushing emotion he could think of. There was desperation, so much of it as he realized he couldn't get away from what was harming him; sadness, sorrow, as the fact that Nightmare was too far away from him continued to become obvious; anger, at the reason why they were suffering in the first place.

He seemed to grow stronger when everything was as hopeless as could be, when there was more than one life on the line above his own. He did not yet understand. All he could comprehend was that he did indeed hold power, strength, but it came and went without listening to his will. He didn't want to wait until things got as bad as possible to unleash some powers he had no control over.

He had very few reasons to believe he was not broken beyond repair.

"I admire you and your persistence, I'll admit that." Quetzalcoatl stopped, several feet away from them and yet too close for their liking. "It makes you the interesting little creature you are. The only reason none of you are dead and gone by now is the promise of surprises like this. Do you think any of your other friends would behave the same way?"

Despite the streaming blood, Dream would not stay silent. Quetzalcoatl wanted his opinion so badly? He would have it. "Don't you _dare_ hurt them. They did _nothing_ to you." His voice was broken from the screams, and still he held on.

"And I presume you, o mighty hero, will be there to protect them?"

It was a low blow, but the caped skeleton would not let it show with such ease. He would not be able to protect those above... but he would know what happened to them, and he would not let it slide. He had even less reasons to give up.

“You are a strong one. But do not let that get into your head, _conetl_. This was nothing but a test.”

"You're messing with the wrong people." Ink murmured, hands clenching into fists. They still had two guardians up there who would be really pissed off once they knew Quetzalcoatl's intentions, and he would not get out of there unscathed. Not to mention the many universes filled with powerful people who would not hesitate to defend those they loved; they could stand a chance, too.

He was starting to think he did not want to presence an angered Dream, either; those specters seemed strong enough to lift that entire mountain with their bare hands and yet he had shoved them all off with such respective ease, in spite of the fear and pain he radiated and broke his heart with.

Quetzalcoatl gave him no immediate reply, and instead a chuckle rumbled across as he walked away, heading to the dark corridor they had been brought there through. Dream almost did not believe it was over so easily, test or not. "I would not be so certain of such claims. Two tried, two failed."

Granting no explanation to those riddling words, he walked off, not without giving Nightmare his last orders. “Give them time to recover and bring them back. They had enough for today.”

Dream almost believed Nightmare would follow that command verbatim. The look he was giving them was not welcoming, not forgiving, and yet the ghost of a smile loomed over.

**_"You have no idea how lucky you are. I'll see you keep that attitude next time."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **i've been using "papyruses" as a plural for papyrus, but i'm gonna change that now. papyri should be the correct form. uwu
> 
> the next update might be pretty late. the final final exams are right there and i'm not gonna get any rest till late june. big oof. DETERMINATION


	30. It All Burns in Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...they had no right. No right to take so many things away from him. Away from Ink. Away from Error. Away from anyone.
> 
> They were no one.
> 
> They would not get away with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i lied. oops.  
> i got a sudden wave of inspiration and i'm even halfway done with the next chapter. no, i don't know where i got the time for all of this either.
> 
> yeeeah, next time i say something, expect me to do the exact opposite. uwu

A couple more droplets of blood trickled to the stone floor, joining the rest accumulated into a small puddle over the course of almost an hour.

It no longer mattered to him, though. Not the blood on his hand or the small puddle of red beside him, not the leftover pain, not the sickening taste. He was so frightened, so concerned, so lost and bewildered. He was so disappointed. He was so offended at his own actions, and nothing but the chagrin that was eating him alive mattered.

All the times he had promised himself he would not break down and make himself look like an easy target to abuse and exploit ended up being worth nothing, turned into the vain hopes he had feared, lies to fill his mind with and keep him in high spirits when he was at the edge of despair. He had done just that the first time. He had not been able to withstand a mere test, a taste of what they would have to undergo. Two merciless creatures knew of his weakness, and would take as much advantage of it as they could.

He was supposed to remain strong, to pretend he was not afraid of what they would do to him or to others, but he had failed miserably at it. It was not the first time he had failed. Far from it. He had told himself there would be no more mistakes with such vigor, but he had lied to himself, lied to those who trusted him. He couldn't even look at Ink, or at Error who was acting strangely aloof all of a sudden, as if reciprocating any eye contact was a curse. He was too ashamed, unable to focus on anything over the screams of his self-disappointment.

Ink had learnt, throughout the many years they had been stuck in that dreadful afterlife together, that Dream going silent around people, especially those he got along with, was a very, very bad sign that should not be ignored under any circumstances. He hadn't uttered a word since Quetzalcoatl had left, since they had been left alone with Nightmare — who had fortunately decided not to take any liberties, — since they had been thrown back into the cell with an equally silent Error. None of the two were in the mood to find out what was wrong with him.

Granted, Ink hadn't said anything either. He simply did not see a fitting place for any 'how are yous' or 'are you okays' that would mean nothing and were beyond useless for the wellbeing of the other, but those words remained present in his head, waiting to be unleashed whenever he thought the silence was too overwhelming. He felt like he should still say or do something, futile as it might be. There were thousands upon millions of derogatory thoughts going through Dream's mind, and he was letting it show.

Dream knew Ink was looking at him, but he said nothing in reply, did nothing to assure him he was fine. Digits absentmindedly glided along the thin cracks on his chin, mouth half open trying not to think of the lingering blood and essentially making sure his jaw wasn't dislocated, breathing softly. Ink n _eeded_ him to assure that he was not in a worse state than he pretended to. His quietness was worrying him more than it should have.

"I'm... such an idiot."

But it was Dream who spoke first, a dismal murmur, and even Error sneaked a glance upon hearing the mellow anger slipping by. It was all it took for Ink to go from worried straight to puzzled.

Dream had promised he would not belittle himself. He had. For his mother, and for his own wellbeing. He had promised far too many things, thinking each and every time that he would have what it took to hold them close to his heart. But he couldn't uphold that promise, either, like he couldn't uphold the many others that had ended up hurting people and taking those he loved away from him.

All those times he had been called useless… It made more and more sense as his chaotic life continued.

"...I should have been stronger."

Ink went from puzzled straight to irate. He pushed himself away from the wall he'd been idly resting against, giving the other skeleton a hard glare. "What do you mean 'should have been stronger'?"

He knew exactly what he meant by that. Anybody who knew Dream well enough would be certain of what he meant. It was not the first time he had plunged himself into one of those moments, no matter how willing he was to sustain a precarious positive attitude around everybody. Ink just hadn't expected he would do that again, there of all places and after proving his value as an unshakable fighter, nor wanted to do so.

No eye contact was given. Not enough self-esteem left for it. "I was supposed to hold on. I wasn't supposed to let them see any weakness. But I did."

The artist had had just about enough.

"Alright, that's damn it."

Ink stood up from his corner in haste, not caring less about being so close to a now attentive Error despite the bars still separating them with questionable efficiency, plopping down on the floor in front of a bewildered Dream.

"You need to stop." He prodded the caped skeleton's chest with an accusing finger, and the face of utter puzzlement Dream had would have almost been comical had it not been part of something he didn't realize the severity of. He could barely stutter the beginning of a question before Ink continued.

"I don't know what got you into thinking you're supposed to be some sort of untouchable thing, but I don't care. You're not. Okay? You're not the most powerful thing in the world, you don't need to be, and nobody is forcing you to be."

The surprise disappeared, and Ink found himself witnessing a look of resentment he had never seen nor thought he would see Dream directing at him. He knew Dream would not appreciate those words much; he probably wouldn't either, but there were things that had to be done. He knew he'd had the truth about him spat out without mercy, he knew he had always held on to the belief that perhaps he would become a real guardian, he knew he would always put everyone else's wellbeing over his own, he knew he didn't want to show weakness in front of Nightmare — but he could not do nor believe any of that there.

Nobody could, and trying was an insane, suicidal idea that he should get rid of as soon as possible, no matter how much it could hurt his mindsets. It was not helping anybody. Not the way it was being executed.

"You need to get rid of those standards, Dream." Ink was almost pleading with the other skeleton. The last thing he wanted was to start an argument between them and he swore he would go and hit his skull against the bars if he did, but there were many things that needed to be said, things Dream was not seeing right and were taking him down the wrong path under the guise of hope in spite of the talk he’d had with his mother about that same issue. "They want us to break and they are not going to stop until we do. If you want to refuse, you can and you  _will_ , because I will do the same, but don't ever think you're useless for not being able to  _handle_  it, because nobody and nothing ever told you you're a steel punching bag."

Despite looking like he was about to start throwing remarks, no matter how odd that would be coming from him, Dream was rendered speechless. Ink saw that coming. He was well aware that he wasn't giving him much reassurance, but the truth would always turn out to be better than a self-imposed lie no matter how much it hurt. Dream would live through real hell if he continued to believe he could withstand anything he was faced with like he was indestructible. Those mindsets had helped him before, but there, it would be his doom.

Not giving up was one thing, but standing tall in the middle of an inescapable apocalypse was another, and one he was physically and mentally unable to do.

Ink was quick to see the sadness filling the other skeleton's eyes, more disappointment joining it, more sorrow, more grief, a plead for forgiveness. None of the two skeletons wanted to argue, to cause grief upon each other, to strain their minds any more… but they both understood their points.

The artist placed a hand on the other's aching shoulder.

"...look, I know you want to think that. But you can't, and you'll only hurt yourself. There are so many people here that believe in you, but there are many who believe in me too, and they're all counting on  _us_  not to give up. We will fight, but not like this. This is how we lose."

Dream averted his gaze, let out a sigh filled with sorrow. His voice dwindled to a pitiful degree, "I don't know what else to do..."

Ink offered him a timid but uplifting smile, lightly squeezing his shoulder. "Hey, I don't know what to do either. But that doesn't matter. We have each other, and we're not going to let these freaks win. We'll teach them a lesson, _but_ without shame or disappointment. What else could they throw at us?"

There was the ghost of a faint smile in Dream's traits as a silent response. It was a sad smile, but it was there nonetheless, even if it was strained.

They had gone through so much together, but they still had some fight left in them nonetheless. They may not be undefeatable superheroes, and they may not stand much of a chance against the unholy offspring of darkness and an aggravated guardian who had the power to kill them all, but they would hold their ground and keep their minds to themselves if it meant they were hindering their genocidal plans.

They would have to go through hell again. It was a fact they couldn't deny. Everything they hated and feared would be used against them without mercy until they started begging for it. They would not be able to keep their composure through it all. But as long as they strayed away from the path of insanity, as long as they didn't deem themselves indestructible towers and focused on not surrendering, no matter what, they could win a fight that seemed hopeless. They were  _together_.

Perhaps they had never truly won, in the past. But they never lost, either.

Dream didn't seem convinced, though. Not that Ink could blame him for it. He couldn't say he was convinced himself, having so much to think about. They knew what they were getting themselves into, but they focused on the pros of it. They could interfere with the impending disaster, and maybe even stop it once the time was right and they had gathered enough clues, and give the others enough time to save themselves without leaving anyone behind. Their last journey was just beginning.

It was their only chance, and they had to use it well.

"I'm just..." Dream shifted, still not raising his gaze. "I'm sorry you have to go through this too."

Ink shook his head. "It's okay. If it means people out there will be safe, then I can handle it. No more being reckless. Besides… I've always thought I didn't repay you enough."

Their eyes met. There was realization, pure and unadulterated, honesty, resolve. The smile Ink had borne became bashful, distant, lost in memories that still hurt and ached and made his mind twist and churn, and it was he who ended up averting his gaze for only a split second.

Dream tripped over his words. "Ink, you don't have to do anything for  _me_ -"

"Trust me, I would've ended up in here anyway." Ink turned around and sat beside Dream, losing that look of longing. Dream had to take note that the artist wasn't all that concerned about Error anymore, even if it would probably last a few more minutes or less. It was nice, for once. It might not have started all that well, but… he felt at ease with Ink there.

He didn't know why.

"I wasn't about to just leave you here alone. Nah, not gonna happen."

Dream didn't feel deserving of any help. Not deserving of someone who would dive straight into hell with him for the sake of not abandoning him. But at the same time, something told him he needed it, and perhaps that was why he felt at ease.

Because the only reason he was receiving any help was because he had lent his first, from his heart.

"…you really don't have to worry about me… but… thank you…"

A playful nudge. "That's what friends are for, right? Especially friends like us."

In a way, Dream thought Ink was trying to relieve stress by acting as carefree and up to the challenge as he could, but he decided not to dwell on that. He could hear honesty better than many people could, and the artist was overflown with it in spite of how forceful his assurance could sound to others who hadn't lived what they had.

It was not something he admitted often, but whenever Dream thought he was losing the grip he had on his strength of will, he tried to focus on the past. Not in all the destruction, the deaths, the fights… but on how he had changed people's lives, even if he was still uncertain if that had been _him_. Many people there were still traumatized. It was no secret. But they would be in a far worse condition had it not been for him and all he’d sacrificed for them.

Even in that afterlife, he was still there for whoever needed him. Ink wouldn't have had enough backup against his fear of Error's unstable mind. Nightmare wouldn't have had a shoulder to lean on. He had served a purpose, even if he was never meant to be a hero to anybody. He may be trapped somewhere hidden to the rest of the world, but he was still helping all those above.

Knowing that he was, in fact, nothing special put a sharp contrast to those thoughts, but… they were there, and he would always hold on to them because they were his dearest treasure. How could he lose the willpower he had, the same that had saved many minds from insanity? If Ink could pull through, for him, so would he.

He had one more goal. One last goal.

Their sacrifice would not be in vain.

…he had always wanted to ask Ink what it was like when he was still alive and he was in that afterlife, watching, looking over him… He couldn't fathom why he had never asked after so many years–

The sound of static filled the air, piercing, shattering the rare peace the skeletons had achieved like the most powerful of lightning strikes. Error grunted, and was on his feet in the blink of an eye. It was Ink who reacted first to the sound and movement right beside them, harshly; it certainly was not a good moment for Error to start acting up, not when they had managed to mutually raise their hopes.

Error glitching out was always a cause for concern, one they did not take lightly. It indicated that something was wrong with him, physically or mentally, and Ink's first thought was that he had overheard their entire conversation — because of course he would have — and had been reminded of anything useful enough for his mind to go frantic against them.

Such did not turn out to be the case, however. But it wasn't a sight that offered relief.

The reason for Error's shock and subsequent glitching had been the feather embedded in his neck, one he tried almost without success to pluck out as he keeled over against the bars that separated him from the other two, trying to find any support to keep him on his feet as he fought the need for his eyes to close.

Surprisingly, though, the responsible had not been Quetzalcoatl but Nightmare, standing idle in the middle of the darkness outside the cell. Not even Dream had seen him coming that time, and he was worried about how much he could have heard. They were out for their weak points, and the memories they forged together, good or bad, were a nicer start than knowing they could use the pain they wouldn't hide as entertainment.

It was even worse that he was being allowed to use those feathers. Nightmare would know how to have his fun with them and their unpredictable effects.

 ** _"They're such neat toys, aren't they?"_**  he commented, as though talking to lifelong friends. It always started out that way. It was perhaps the most vexing part of their encounters.

It didn't take too long for Error to fall victim to exhaustion, despite his best efforts to battle it off and to face Nightmare without showing weakness. Teeth gritted, vicious particles dancing, an irate attempt was made to walk toward Nightmare ignoring the existence of the bars that confined him. He was _tired_ of him. He was _not_ his plaything. They would _not_ treat him as such…–

But he collapsed against the rock wall.

Ink would have normally been glad he no longer had Error to worry about, but the next big question was what they were planning to do with him, or if they were needed again as well. Dream and Ink watched Nightmare without a word, their eyes brimming with the resolve they had vowed to maintain for each other and for the people out there. He didn't seem to have any more feathers he could use against them. Not like they would be easy to dodge, but they were ready to get out of their way if such was the case.

"What are you going to do with him?"

Dream pretended he wasn't still faced by what had happened before, that he wasn't in pain anymore and that he didn't fear what else could happen to them in the near future, even if he knew Nightmare was more than aware of his fear. He pretended he wasn't concerned that Ink would likely be next in line, no matter how feisty he could act like.

Don't give up, but don't stand tall.

Nightmare placed a hand on the bars, melting away the ones on Error's side.  ** _"That's none of your business."_**  he said, stepping in to take the slumbering skeleton with him under the watchful gaze of the other two.  ** _"Just keep in mind that the fun and games will be over as soon as we've dealt with this one."_**

Ink had to scoff; there was no need to even wonder the things they could get away with if they got Error on their side. "Figures..."

The melting skeleton paused, though, not too worried about the time he had before Error woke up again. The look he gave the duo was one of skepticism, an odd one to be seen in him.  ** _"You look awfully calm. You didn't learn a thing, did you?"_**

"What _is_ there to learn?" Dream snapped at him. They might be trying to stay calm, but there was nothing that would stop him from acting like he hated Nightmare more than anything in the world — and he did. Not his brother, not his Nightmare, but that _thing_ that claimed to be him. "That you're waiting for us to crawl at your feet? Good luck."

Nightmare frowned, intrigued by the continuous display of courage that never seemed to reach its rightful end. He had been certain they would have broken their mettle by then; it hadn't been that difficult to pry their hope away from them in the past.

Not like it mattered. He wanted a challenge.

 ** _"Interesting..."_**  was all Nightmare said, a thoughtful murmur that seemed too dangerous for its own good. He appeared to have lost all interest in taking Error with him and be gone.  ** _"But you should be the first to know it always starts out like this. Now you are encouraged and indignant, next time you'll be nothing but our puppets. We just need a little more time..."_**

Though, if he had to be honest, Nightmare did not want to wait too long to see them, indeed, crawling at his feet, obeying his every order in fear of what might happen to them if they did not comply. It was such a delightful thing to imagine. He could already see them bringing chaos among those they cared for with his mere command. It _would_ become a reality soon.

There was no way they would last more than a few days. Especially if...

**_"...not too much time."_ **

Nightmare placing a hand on the bars that separated him from Ink and Dream did not raise many alarms, at first. It seemed like a mere, subconscious action. He wasn't even looking at them.

But that set of bars disappeared into thin air in a heartbeat, and the skeletons only noticed when they were all gone and one melting tendril was rushing toward them — toward Dream.

It wasn't exactly an attack meant to _harm_ him, however. Even before Ink could think of stepping in and protect the friend he had sworn to stand beside, the tentacle wrapped around and yanked on the cape, just as another swept into Dream’s ribs to push him away. The golden cloth was torn from him as he toppled to the ground.

He sat up the moment he noticed the strange emptiness, the lack of warmth, hand reaching out for the cape that was not there but instead crumpled in the grasp of wavering tendrils as a cruel smile looked on. Eyes of gold shrunk in realization.

He couldn't take that away from him. Not that. Not the cape.

_Not what was left of his brother._

“No!”

Pushing any rational thought aside like a pest, Dream scrambled to his feet and tried to lunge at Nightmare, to pry the _treasure_ he had no right to touch away from his contaminating clutch against Ink's protests and attempts to reach out for him, but it wasn't the artist who stopped him.

Two tentacles launched at them and pushed them both against the unforgiving rock wall, branching out around their torso like hands of pure darkness.

Nightmare had never done that before.

Stronger servants were just about enough; they didn't need him to go around learning new ways to manipulate his strength and powers. They did not need him to become an even bigger threat than he already was.

The tendrils held them firmly, unwavering against their pulling hands. There was not enough pressure to make them fear for their ribs but enough to threaten them into remaining still — only Ink accepted that. Dream was still thrashing and yelling, spluttering anger and grief with barely any control.

Not the cape.

_Not the cape._

Please not the cape...

 ** _"You care way too much for this thing."_**  Nightmare snickered, lowering the cape, teasing Dream with it, so close and yet so far away from his reach. For Dream, it was barely a cape anymore; he could almost see his brother in that thing's grasp, about to be torn from his life forever.  ** _"Come on, it's just an old piece of cloth. Did you really believe it would protect you from everything?"_**  The melting skeleton broke into a fit of mirth to contrast the tears that were pooling in his brother's eyes.  ** _"What an idiotic promise..."_**

Slowly, he raised the cape. It only took Dream a second to notice Nightmare was inching it toward the torch.

"No… No, don't,  _stop_! _Get away from_   _him_!"

Grief broke his voice, and Ink melted at it. That was one thing he couldn't do anything about... and it hurt. Practically everybody knew how much that cape meant to Dream. Before Nightmare was brought back, he would almost always see him holding it close, relaxing in its warmth, seeking it for protection after a night terror... sometimes even talking alone as if he were speaking to his brother.

Ink understood how much it would hurt Dream, despite what they had decided. And it would anger him.

He actually _wanted_ them to pick him as their next victim. Give them a taste of his opinion.

Rejoicing in the pleas he thought were pathetic beyond words, Nightmare held the cape over the dancing flame. The fire was pleased with the offering, gnawing at the cloth, spreading over it in a matter of seconds, showing no mercy as gold was stained black, as it withered, as it vanished into ashes in slow motion.

Dream froze, choking on a sob.

Nightmare smiled, a white zipper among blackness.  ** _"Oops."_**

Dream was no longer fighting, no longer blinking, no longer breathing. Nightmare let go of the burning cape once the fire had taken too much of it to consider it salvageable, holding the skeletons for a while longer before he released them as well.

Ink had been expecting Dream to rush to the cape and battle the covetous fire with unmatchable fierceness, but he did not. He sat there still, aghast, watching as the flames consumed the cloth, as they consumed all that was left of his brother.

**_"Stop waiting for him to come back to you. He is long gone."_ **

Saying nothing more, the melting skeleton grabbed the slumbering Error, oblivious to all that was happening, and walked off, closing off the cells with the bars he had removed. Dream wasn't even aware of the last look he gave them before disappearing into the hall, **_“We’ll find out if you care more about your friend than about a rag.”_**

Ink's presence and the comforting hand on his shoulder did not give him any tranquility back.

"...Dream?"

He remained quiet. Instead, Dream got up, movements slow and sorrow written in each of his silent steps as he approached the still aflame pile of once golden cloth, feeling like his legs could give out anytime. He couldn't care less about the thin smoke and the pungent smell of burnt fabric, crouching beside it, grabbing something.

The brooch. That pink brooch, adorned by nothing but a star in the middle, the one thing that reinforced the embrace of the cape... Something that seemed so insignificant held unnamable value to Dream.

It was all he had left.

The heart he lacked shrunk as he moved his gaze away from the brooch, his face barely reflected in it, a single tear rolling down his cheek. His entire world collapsed as he watched the cape burn away.

. . .

...they had no right. No right to take so many things away from him. Away from Ink. Away from Error. Away from anyone.

They were _no one._

They would _not_ get away with it.

The gloved digits that held the brooch with such softness, that caressed its smooth surface with such tender care, clenched around it in a fist, shielding it from the cruel sight ahead.

Those tears were not of sadness.

His hand did not tremble with fear.

"...this doesn't end here."

 

* * *

 

The gentle atmosphere of twilight settled in again, and again, Nim did not find any comfort in it. There was nothing to find comfort in. It was one more day without progress, one more day of defeat, one more day of endless worries, and one more night of concern and high alert.

She could, at least, be glad the word had spread quickly; more than half of the world already knew what had happened and were making sure to keep an eye on the residents of Waterfall, most of which had decided to spend their time elsewhere just in case. It had to be the only good news she had heard in too long.

She could also rest assured Lanny would not be taking any chances ever again, unless it was a life or death situation, harsh as the lesson might have been on her. She had always predicted the elf would end up doing something reckless to prove her points, and had been ready for it since. She just hadn't predicted it would be so severe.

Other than that, though, there was nothing to keep her calm, and nothing Nim could do to keep her thoughts collected and coherent.

Everything had become even emptier than usual, the silence more vicious, tearing at every blade of grass and every speck of dust. The villages were brimming, and so was any area of the Underground that was not Waterfall — no more loose groups around desolate zones, no more brave people looking out for threats for the others. It was all hiding, staying alert for one another, a tense game of cat and mouse that was not ending anytime soon.

At least those people knew what they were going to do with their lives from then on. Good for them; Nim did not, and she felt like it all depended on the next decision she would make. Waterfall was a permanent death trap, Quetzalcoatl could and would kill them if he had the chance, talking to him was no longer an option, fighting him was too dangerous and something they did not want to resort to, and waiting could result in more trouble than they wanted to handle.

Sometimes, she believed it was over for them.

They did not have all the time in the world to figure something out, and Nim had been pressuring herself with that fact in an attempt to urge her mind to come up with something useful instead of returning to the worst outcome. Not the most pleasant of methods, but the match would burn out soon, causing a hellfire in return. She couldn’t allow it.

…but she dreaded that the end was such a powerful possibility. She would always be the one to have a backup plan, to hold a million words of counseling, to strive for the best with one thought-through choice among many, but she had nothing for herself nor for anybody else.

She heaved a sigh, long and profuse and heavy with sorrow, hanging tense in the cold air that settled in along with the incoming night. She had never felt so small in her life, so powerless, useless, one more pawn about to be struck down to never get back up. The heartache became more prominent, never receding, never giving her the opportunity to breathe in some much needed peace.

She was so entranced in what the past used to be, in what the future could have been, in what it would be if they kept going like they were, trying to focus despite the many failed attempts at doing so, that she almost missed the white splotch of someone who wasn't supposed to be wandering out alone she caught through the corner of her eye.

She heard the voice first, "Yeah, life ain't fair, or is it?"

Her first reaction would have been to be angry that someone was roaming loose  _at night_ in spite of the confirmed dangers of it, but she had found herself recognizing that white splotch and that mocking voice in an instant, and she was alert the moment she looked up to see the one person she would have given anything not to ever see again.

Kamea walked past her without directing her even the smallest of glances, no weapon in hand, no signals of a threat, following an uncertain direction that she happened to be in the middle of. He was simply walking through, like nothing mattered, like he was welcome there, like he wasn't suspicious at all.

She wouldn't look elsewhere, gaze stuck to the rogue as though he were a magnet. Having in mind what Lanny had told her about him, it was possible he was acting out of his own, bitter will, and Nim no longer knew what to think of him. He had been an unpredictable hazard before, and now he could be much worse.

_"What are you doing here?"_

Kamea seemed like he had no intention to originally, but he turned around and stopped, all in one swift, almost graceful movement. He looked tired, uninterested in the world that surrounded him, but the one thing that caught the guardian's attention was the gash that adorned the left side of his body, fabric and skin torn and painted with a fine line of red.

"Hey, relax, we're all friends here." he drawled, exhausted cheerfulness marking his every word. "All against one common enemy, right?"

Nim hadn't expected that particular choice of words that she only understood thanks to the retelling of Lanny's previous encounter, and her mistrustful surprise became more apparent. It wasn't a confirmation to be thankful for.

It was true, it seemed. He _had_ gone his own way, and wanted nothing to do with the guardian he had showed respect to before. Why, Nim couldn't bother with such a trivial question. Alone or not, Kamea was still a threat, not so much to her or Lanny as long as they saw him coming but to the many people out there.

She couldn't deny the possibility that his apparent betrayal was part of a well-crafted scheme in which Kamea was once again playing the role of a distraction, but she didn't think those two would go as far as hurting each other for it to gain a believable effect. Quetzalcoatl was cunning, unpredictable, creative in his own, twisted way, but even he would be above that nonsense.

 _"What makes you think that would make you our friend?"_  Nim sent the question with sharp, cold venom, hiding that inner interest she had to decipher his real intentions and judge him for what he truly wanted. No need to encourage him to be any cockier than he already was.

Kamea shrugged. "Nothing. Just expected some leniency. I did choose an appropriate time to turn things around a little, didn't I?"

The dryad scowled. There was something she didn't like hanging heavy in the air, but it was not coming from the human himself. Nothing was coming from him as a matter of fact, no aura that could help her detect any ill will or any lie. She had never paid close attention to that before, and it was worrisome; people she couldn't read, rare as they were, always put her on edge.

She couldn't decipher his intentions, unable to grasp any clue as to what he wanted to do and why, and she didn't even think she should be standing there letting him speak, and yet she was.

He was... a mystery. An inscrutable, volatile mystery, hiding itself from the world. It was almost as if he didn't even have a soul. She would believe that, metaphorically. But it couldn't be, could it? He would be nothing but an expressionless puppet if such was the case, and certainly would not be in any position to make choices of his own.

She did not think that was a reason to let him roam free, however, but nothing was urging her to fight back. She was strangely at ease, and still with her nerves at the edge. Perhaps he was too much of a mystery.

He caught on her blatant lack of trust and her display of vexation at his presence soon enough, and raised an eyebrow. "Look, I know what you're thinking. I'm the last person you would ever trust. And that's good! I don't even trust myself for that matter. But you need to focus on something else. I don't have any reason to go around hunting you down. Not anymore."

Nim failed to see any valid points. Contaminating her space and pretending to care less about who they worried and did not worry about? Something smelt fishy, and it did not matter to her if Kamea was or was not working alongside Quetzalcoatl. Anything he did, it would end up badly. She just knew.

_"Could have started by not coming back here again."_

But her answer, again laced by a frigid lack of sympathy, only earned her a feigned pout. "Oh, come on, give me a break. I need to move around. You really think I have any intentions of getting anywhere near this lunatic again? I'd be dead meat."

Then, perhaps, don't aggravate said lunatic.

_"Are there any reasons for you to believe it would be any different by staying here?"_

"How cold. See, this is why I didn't expect to be thanked for an accident."

Nim's scowl deepened. It was obvious she was not going to pry any mature answer out of the human, and she might as well stop trying. She was wasting precious time she could spend figuring out what their next move would be before it was too late.

It was hard to ignore his presence, though. He had gained Quetzalcoatl's trust for years and years, and the guardian had enough faith in him to expect him to do things for him. Yet, all it took for that trust to shatter was a split second. There was no way to predict what else he could do if he got too close and comfortable around others, despite his claims not to be out for blood.

"Anyway, seeing as I'm not that wanted, I'll be on my way now. I'll be sure not to step around your sacred personal space again."

And like nothing had ever happened, Kamea made to continue on his way. Nim noticed he had a slight limp, and there was a possibility he wouldn't be taking any more chances with anyone as long as he was wounded, but he would always be the unpredictable, annoying bug in the middle. As if they didn't have enough problems already.

She let him go. There was no need to start a fight, and it wasn't like she  _wanted_  to kill anyone, no matter how dangerous and exasperating they could be.

It was no secret that Kamea knew many things, so much more than anybody else. She was well aware of that fact, and well aware that they would not be getting any answers out of him in a conventional way. It would be better to keep him around and see if he would ever change his mind... unless he began causing too much trouble.

He stopped, not turning around.

"Oh, by the way... If I were you, I would make sure to have a thorough look around before discussing anything. There are always eyes watching."

That irritating, mocking tone he had had completely disappeared. Nim did not like the danger that lurked in his voice, nor the strength with which he affirmed his statements — statements the guardian did not understand just yet, not without clues.

He side-glanced at her, and the crooked smile of nonchalance was back in his traits. "Friendly advice."

She waited that whole, moonless night for an ambush. Nothing happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy, 30 chapters already. this is a record for me


End file.
